My Love, My Secret
by YoureAnIllusion
Summary: An AU Merlin romance set in 1954 USA before the Civil Rights Movement, and as a result, racism is rampant. But what does the privileged Arthur do when he falls in love with a poor "colored" woman? And will he or Lorenzo succeed in winning her heart?
1. Chapter 1

_Hello everyone, and thank you for taking the time to read my first FanFiction. I will be releasing it a chapter at a time, and I hope you enjoy it. Because I am new to FanFiction, comments would be helpful if you have any criticisms, or praise for this work. Have fun._

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><p><strong>My Love, My Secret<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: To Plant a Seed<strong>

Guinevere Gibson moved as quickly as her legs could take her down the crowded midtown street, trying her best to avoid collision with the countless people who shared her mission: arriving to work in time. Frantically, she glanced at her cheap wristwatch, the hands ticking faster than she could move, reminding her that for every moment she was late, her boss was surely docking her pay. That morning she had missed the city bus, her only mode of transportation, and she had to wait another twenty minutes for the next one to arrive, which still stopped five blocks away from her workplace.

_Please Lord, don't let Cid fire me, _she begged under her breath, _I need this job._

Five minutes later, Gwen arrived at Cid's Diner; her miserable place of employment for the past two years. She had landed the job the end of her senior year in high school, and since then it had served to supplement the meager paycheck her father earned by working his fingers to the bone as a mechanic alongside his son Elliot.

Gwen worked like a dog; putting up with all sorts of customers, and running around at her boss' every whim, but she was still grateful. It was 1954, and as a colored woman without a particular skill, Gwen was fully aware that her options for employment were fairly limited. Though she was the first in her family to graduate high school, Gwen had to choose between housekeeping or waitressing, and sometimes she regretted choosing the latter.

The bells atop of the front door to the diner chimed at Gwen's entrance, and immediately she found her bloated employer, Cid McCoy, behind the counter and she cringed as she saw how red he was. She hardly had both feet through the door, before her heavy boss rushed at her as quickly as he could.

"You're thirty—" he checked his watch with a nod, "thirty-four minutes late."

"I'm so sorry Mr. McCoy. I—"

"What's your excuse this time, huh?" he asked placing a fat hand on his hip, tapping his foot impatiently. "Was your brother sick again? Or did you have to run out and get you papa's back medicine? Or maybe you have a new one I haven't heard. Please, entertain me!"

"I missed the bus," Gwen admitted quietly, averting her gaze as she tucked a loose curl behind her ear. She wished she had a better justification, but she thought it best to say as little as possible.

Cid's eyes narrowed at the attractive girl before him, shaking his head. "You got one more time to be late this month, and then you're out. You hear? I don't even know why I put up with this—the customers—they like you too much."

Gwen waited for the rest of the tirade…there was always more. Mr. McCoy could be pleasant enough if he was in a good mood, but she never seemed to accomplish such a feat. He was always hyper-critical of her, and she was constantly walking on eggshells. The only reason she even had that job was because her father had saved Cid a ton of money in car repairs, and she was constantly reminded of it when he'd snap at her for any little thing.

"Just get outta my sight and to work," Cid finished with a sigh.

"I apologize again, sir."

"Sure," he, sounding defeated.

Gwen couldn't help but smirk as she made her way to the bathroom.

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><p>"Arthur!" Drake Lewis cupped his hands around his mouth to project his voice against the bustling college courtyard, running to catch up with his friend.<p>

Arthur Pendragon stopped midstride, to find one of his pals jogging across the green courtyard with a wave. "Hey, Drake," Arthur tried not to appear too disgusted at how out of breath Drake was from the short jog.

"Roger, Alex, and I are going for dinner," Drake panted. "Wanna tag along?"

Arthur looked at his best friend Merlin who was at his side, but appeared to be disinterested in the conversation. Arthur turned back to Drake, who too ignored Merlin. "You up to it, Merlin?"

Merlin scratched his dark hair, not having to consider the offer long before realizing he would rather pass. Arthur was his friend and all, but being around a group of three others who were exactly like him…it could drive a sane person over the edge. They were all rich, entitled, and arrogant, but Arthur less than the others, and Merlin had learned to live with and appreciate his quirks. But to the others, he was a borderline freak; his tall and lanky stature only furthering their opinions that he was socially awkward and a "drag".

"Merlin!" Arthur demanded, impatient as usual. "It aint a life decision; do you want to go, or not?"

"Sure, I don't have anything better to do."

"Alright, we're gonna drive. How are y'all getting there?"

"I reckon we'll just walk," Arthur answered on Merlin's behalf.

"Roger's uncle owns this diner where we could eat for free. You know the one?"

Arthur Pendragon did not "do" diners, in fact he detested them. They were only for poor people who were too lazy to cook their own food, and too down and out to go somewhere better. He was more of a steak and lobster kind of man, as opposed to hamburgers and fries. As the son of real estate mogul Uther Pendragon, head "Dragon Real Estate", the third largest real estate company in the country, Arthur's dining opportunities were hardly limited. His family (consisting of him, his father, and his cousin Morgana) went out to eat at the finest restaurants money could buy. So, he had no clue where this pitiful diner was.

"I know where it is," Merlin said raising his hand.

"We'll see you there, Arthur." Drake quickly turned around, exiting as quickly as he came.

"Remind me again: why do you hang out with those creeps?"

"They'd say the same about you." Arthur said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. "Anyway, they're good enough guys."

"No they're not," Merlin snorted.

"You just don't know them like I do."

"I have pity that you do," Merlin quipped.

"Have you been to this place, before?" Arthur asked, taking in a long drag.

"Yeah, it's pretty close. Roger's uncle is the owner, and their food and service is pretty good."

"Well," Arthur flicked some ashes in the wind, "I'll be the judge of that."

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><p>Gwen wiped her hands on her apron as she placed another order to the kitchens. She fanned her face as she stepped away from the heat which the stoves emitted.<p>

"Rough night back there, huh Joe?" Gwen asked one of the cooks with a smile.

"Sure is. Good night for tips, though," he correctly remarked.

Gwen nodded, fixing her disheveled hair yet again; today her head of curls refused to cooperate, and she knew how testy Cid could become when his waitresses looked less than immaculate. Quickly, she picked up the tray of drinks she had prepared, looking across the room at the table of five white college boys who had walked in with a ruckus about five minutes ago. How she envied them and their opportunity.

Gwen considered herself to be a decent enough person, and knew that being envious was a sin…but she couldn't help it. She could tell by their clothes and attitude that they were wallowing in cash, and by the flippant way they spoke to them, they weren't very kind either. Their sense of entitlement was nearly palpable, and it made her empty stomach churn.

One of them stood from his seat in the booth, whistling at her like a dog from across the room demanding the group's drinks.

Gwen took a deep breath, collecting herself before she presented herself to them yet again. Cid had only hired Gwen because her father saved him a lot of money whilst working on his car, and she was constantly reminded of it when he'd snap at her for any little thing.

Her customers were rude, allowed to get away with treating her without an ounce of respect. Her boss hardly tolerated her, and the few graces she received from him were because he owed her father a favor. Gwen looked down at her dark skin, and wondered if it really was a curse after all. She quickly pushed the ugly notion out of her aching head.

Despite other's constant efforts to belittle her, Gwen knew that she contained a great amount of potential. Her kind and gentle heart was her best quality and also her fatal flaw. She was always told her light laugh and luminescent smile brightened any room, and she was loyal until the und. Her second-class citizenship did little to dampen her spirits, even on the days when her feet ached after a long day, and she was forced to stand on the bus when there were plenty of the seats in the front. Or those occasions where she would rather wait in the colored section of the train section with a full bladder, than step inside the terribly neglected colored public restrooms.

"It took you long enough," the shortest of the five scoffed, reaching over to literally pick his drink off of the tray.

"I apologize. It's busy."

"Don't look to busy to me," another chimed in.

Gwen swallowed her retort, as she gave the rest of the table their drinks.

"Two Coca-Colas, one Dr. Pepper, and a water," she finished, handing the last two drinks to Arthur and Merlin respectively.

Alex looked down at his soda, and looked back at Gwen, rolling his eyes. "You got my order wrong. I ordered a Dr. Pepper."

Gwen looked down at her notepad, where she had written otherwise, and she knew what he had ordered. "You told me Coca-Cola."

"Well looky there," Alex said sliding the drink away from there. "I changed my mind then, didn't I? Be a doll, and go fetch me another."

Gwen's head tilted to the side in awe. She contemplated whether it would be beneficial to argue, but she decided against it. She wasn't about to lose her job over some brat who liked to see her run around. She plastered on the best fake smile she could muster, and donned her 'the-customer-is-always-right' tone. "I apologize for the mix up sir, I'd be glad to get you another."

Gwen reached over towards Alex's drink with a sigh, only to miscalculate and have her right elbow knock over another drink, the ice spilling onto the table as the liquid pooled directly into Arthur's nearby lap.

"What the hell! Are you slow, or somethin'?" he yelled at her, jumping out of the booth with a start. Some stray ice cubes fell from his lap, and his expensive khaki pants sported a large brown stain.

Gwen covered her mouth, as the rest of the table snickered except for the dark haired one who looked as mortified as she. "I'm_ so_ sorry!" she croaked, turning the flipped glass upright.

Arthur froze, his eyes narrowing to slits as he proceeded to tell her off. "Yeah, you are sorry," he snarled. He looked at the colored girl whose hair was out of place and her skin glistened with sweat, and revulsion twisted in his gut. He looked down at his stained pants, and it increased tenfold.

"It was an accident, I didn't—" The new busboy moved past Gwen in a hurry, leaning over the table with a wet rag to wipe down the mess, eyeing the snickering occupants in disdain.

"What's goin' on here?" Cid asked, his face as red as ever as he glared at Gwen. He was surprised to see his nephew Roger at the table, accompanied by a group of his college buddies.

Gwen opened her mouth to voice a reply which she knew would be futile, but the rude and vocal blonde who felt violated had beat her to it.

"Can you get us a new waitress? Maybe someone who doesn't have molasses in her britches, and who's smart enough to get a drink order right," Arthur glared at Gwen who to his surprised, returned the favor.

Cid watched as the bus boy departed after cleaning the table, and Gwen stood doing her best to avoid his accusing gaze. Shaking his head, he said, "Of course gentlemen, we do apologize…right Gwen?"

She knew that she had already apologized to the group of brats, but she reminded herself of how much she needed this job for the millionth time that terrible night.

"Again, I apologize," she lied, swallowing the pride that was creeping up her throat, threatening to give the spoiled man a piece of her mind.

Arthur said nothing as he brushed past the owner and the waitress, trudging to the bathroom.

Gwen leaned over to pick her tray off of the table, making a straight beeline to the back of the restaurant where the poorly lit and dingy employee locker rooms were. She sat on one of the benches which were between the row of lockers, and buried her face in her hands.

She wasn't one for crying often, but she was at her breaking point. Guinevere Gibson felt like her life was at a standstill…at only nineteen. Stuck in a dead end job, with a dim future…who was she to tell that group of guys off any way? In everyone else's eyes she was a nobody.

She heard footsteps walking into the room, and she did her best to wipe her eyes. The new busboy whose name was unknown to her, came into view in the doorway, and Gwen suddenly felt embarrassed for falling apart in front of a complete stranger.

He stood a moment at the doorway, deciding whether he wanted to come in.

"Sorry, if I'm in your way," Gwen said shakily, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Ah, no no," he said, walking over. "Here," he said, digging into his left pocket and handing her a handkerchief.

Gwen gave him a small smile, holding up the embroidered handkerchief. "Thanks, that's very nice of you."

The bus boy stood there awkwardly, putting his hands in his pockets as he watched the pretty girl properly wiper her eyes.

"Are you new?" Gwen asked after a sniffle, trying to normalize the uncomfortable situation.

"Yeah, it's first day," he said running a hand through his long dark hair with was neatly groomed and complimented the dark stubble which lined his prominent jaw, and framed his warm dark eyes.

"My name is Guinevere Gibson, but everyone just calls me Gwen."

"I'm Lorenzo…Lorenzo Camello."

Pause. "It was very kind of you to bring me this," she said, holding up the small handkerchief. "Oh, and for cleaning up the table…you didn't have to."

"Cleaning tables is my job," he said, with a smile which made him appear to be trustworthy and kind. Lorenzo took a seat next to Gwen on the bench. "I'm sorry for how they treated you, but you gotta let stuff like that roll off of your shoulders. I'm sure it wasn't personal—though that doesn't make it hurt any less."

"How much of it did you see?"

"Most of it."

Gwen shrugged, laughing quietly."I don't even know why I'm crying. I should be used to this stuff by now; I get it all the time." She took a moment to take a deep breath. "I'm sure you do too."

Lorenzo nodded in understanding. "I do , but I also know you never get used to being hated."

Gwen looked at him, for he had stolen the words from her mouth.

"That's exactly it," she said, looking him in the eye.

Moments passed by before Gwen felt awkward, and looked away:

"Well, thank you, Lorenzo," she said standing quickly. "I'll wash this," she said, holding up the handkerchief. Giving him one last smile, Gwen hustled out of the room.

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><p>Gwen trudged through the front door of her small single-story, three bedroom home at around ten o'clock, her light purse feeling like a fifteen pound weight against her aching shoulders. One light in the hallway was left on for her, so she knew her brother Elliot and her father must be in bed already. Picking up her shoes, she dragged her feet all the way to her small room on the far side of the house.<p>

"Oh, hey Daddy. I thought you were sleepin'," Gwen said tiredly as her Father stepped out of his room.

"Gwen baby, you're back late. How was work?" Tom asked drowsily, rubbing the sleep from his red eyes.

"Not too good: bad customers and bad tips."

Tom stepped into the small hallway, his brows furrowed in frustration. His daughter was so young, but was worked as hard as he. She was used to it though; Gwen had been the 'woman' of the house since she was eight.

"Want to talk 'bout it?"

"No, Daddy," Gwen said, sighing. She gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek, his stubble tickling her face. "I think I'm just gonna go to bed, before I fall asleep right here."

"Okay," Tom responded sadly. "Get some sleep, baby, okay?"

"'Night, Daddy." Gwen quickly went to her room, not looking back.

Slowly, Tom shut his door, his gaze fixating on one of the many pictures he had of his late wife Celia. It was at times like these, when he was reminded of the burden placed upon Gwen, that he missed his deceased wife the most.

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><p><em>Inspired by "To Plant a Seed" by We Came As Romans<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: It's Not Ironic, It's Obvious**

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><p>Arthur sat in his literature class, waiting for the torture to cease. The professor had been lecturing for the past hour, and for the majority of the monologue the entire class was completely zoned out. Most of the time, Arthur wondered why he even bothered to show up for his classes: nothing better to do? He knew most people couldn't afford further education after high school, but he'd gladly give them his. For the young Pendragon every moment in <em>any<em> of his classes was his personal hell. Arthur didn't even understand why his father went through all of the trouble to get him accepted into this cursed place. Though Uther Pendragon would flat out deny it, he gave the school board enormous sums for their near bankrupt scholarship fund, and as a result the university had no choice but to accept Arthur.

Finally unable to bear the torment most called literature class, Arthur gathered his books and arouse from his desk. Walking down the columns, and row by row, heads lifted from their sleeping positions as ferocious whispering ensued.

The tall and lean professor Darthy stood paralyzed, unsure of what his least motivated and excessively rude student was doing as he continued to walk to the front.

"Uhm, excuse me? Mr. Pendragon!" Darthy nearly yelled stopping Arthur in his tracks. "Where on earth do you think you're going? I have yet to finish the lecture or dismiss the class."

Arthur quickly looked at the students who moments ago were slumped over their desks, but were now perky and their backs rod straight. He could see his cousin and Morgana and the beautiful Vivian Remington looking especially terrified in the front rows. Arthur had to refrain from chuckling when he saw Merlin next to his own empty desk, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Arthur thought of whether he should come up with a lie, and then proceed with his escape mission. Or perhaps tell Professor Darthy the truth: he hated his class, he was the worst teacher he ever had the displeasure of tolerating, and that he didn't have to be in his class in the first place. But Arthur refrained from the latter, _Darthy still has to grade that terrible analysis I handed in…_

"I didn't mean to interrupt sir," Arthur began his bogus explanation. "But, I have to meet my father at the hospital for an appointment. He won't be able to drive home, and I really should be going." Arthur looked at the expensive watch on his left wrist for dramatic effect. "I'm late already, and I don't want him there by himself."

Arthur stopped a smile from creeping onto his lying lips: Darthy was buying it all, hook line and sinker. He continued. "Again, I apologize for the interruption. I wouldn't have come to class at all, but I didn't want to miss the lecture I knew you'd be giving."

The old man's face softened. "Okay…but next time, let me know before class starts. I won't keep you any longer Mr. Pendragon."

_Next time? I wasn't planning on it, but if you insist…_

Arthur nodded at Darthy, promptly exiting before he busted into hysterical laughter the moment he shut the door to the large class room. He should have been ashamed at how quickly and convincingly the lie fell off his lips, but he was willing to do anything to escape from Darthy's tortuous lesson.

Arthur Pendragon was the only child of the real estate mogul Uther Pendragon, and beauty queen Igraine Harris. He never knew his mother however, who died mere days after his birth from an infection she caught during his delivery. Uther never resented his son for the loss of his wife, but with Igraine's passing he became a different man. Focused solely on the advancement of his business empire, Uther was able to accumulate the fortune he and his family now enjoyed.

In his childhood, Arthur wanted for nothing…except a mother, that is. His father's wealth didn't compensate for his aloofness or lack of affection. Arthur had no doubt that his father loved him, but he had to admit that their relationship mirrored more that of roommates than father and son.

But since the death of Uther's brother and sister-in-law in a tragic fire twelve years ago, the relationship between father and son had improved slightly. Arthur accredited that to one thing and one thing only: Morgana. Uther's only niece had a special place in his heart since the day she was born. Honored to be named her godfather at birth, he was by the girl's side since, happily playing the role of doting uncle and godfather. So when her parents perished when she was but ten in a house fire, Uther did not hesitate in taking full responsibility for the girl whom he considered the daughter he never had.

At first Arthur was jealous of the affection Morgana received, just as selfish then as he was now. Uther doted on Morgana even more than Arthur, a source of tension between him and his cousin in the beginning. However, now Arthur couldn't imagine life without Morgana who he considered nothing less than a sister.

Before Arthur was even out of the prison walls, he slipped a cigarette out of its box which he had with him at all times. As soon as he stepped out of the hallway, he wasted no time in enjoying the smoke tickle his lungs, finally exhaling in relief. Only a few paces out of the school, he heard the door open again, and he turned around to see who it was. He had to remind himself not to roll his eyes once he saw Vivian excitedly wave at him, calling for him to wait for her.

"Arthur?" Vivian Remington called out in her gentle voice, known to be sweet and mild one moment and sharp as a razor the next.

Arthur looked at his…what was she to him? Certainly not his main girl nor girlfriend, but he had to admit that they had been on more than a few dates, and fooled around occasionally. But he wasn't very interested in her; he was just using her before she used him. Arthur Pendragon was no fool; he knew Vivian had little interest in him as a person. She was like everyone else: only interested in his money and drop-dead-gorgeous looks.

With his wind-swept blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and toned body, he attracted women like a magnet. And his massive fortune was just the cherry on the delicious vanilla sundae….and it went straight to his head.

"Vivian, what are you doing out of class?" he asked, not particularly thrilled to see her.

She looked beautiful as usual, her dark blonde hair lay just above her shoulders and she wore it wavy that day. Her expensive pencil dress highlighted her figure and dazzling grey eyes. No matter how much she annoyed him, Arthur had to admit she was extremely attractive.

"As soon as you left, Darthy dismissed us early," she said catching up to him with a bright smile.

He blew out a puff of smoke, and couldn't resist rolling his eyes as Vivian delicately coughed. _Can she just go away? Where the hell is Merlin when I need him?_

"Want to go get something to eat?" Vivian asked, never relenting on her efforts to get Arthur alone…again.

_Should I be kind to her?_ "Sorry Viv, but—"

"I know you don't have to go to the hospital for your Dad. I know you better than that Arthur."

_No you don't. _He stopped, idly inhaling as he looked around the throng of students exiting the building, looking for Merlin.

"You're right Viv, but I'm not in the mood. Okay?"

Vivian looked down, obviously upset. "Another time then?"

"Sure." Arthur said walking past her without a goodbye. When would she give up? He wasn't that interested in her—this couldn't be said for his father, however. Uther Pendragon was just as relentless as Vivian; constantly inviting the Remington's for dinner, making sure that Vivian was seated next to his son—Arthur just wanted them _both_ to give up.

To his relief, Arthur saw Merlin in the distance, talking to Morgana. He went to his two friends, invited by Morgana's glare.

"Arthur, have you lost your mind? You're not even a good liar," Morgana scoffed. "Darthy should've seen right through that charade."

Arthur grinned wryly. "But he didn't, did he?"

Merlin shook his head in reproach. "Arthur, are we still going to the park to study? We all know how much you need it."

"Sure."

"You comin' Morgana?" Merlin asked.

"Nah," she tapped her books. "I've got plenty of assignments…you do too Arthur." Morgana added putting her dark hair behind her ear.

"Since when were the two of you made my babysitters? You don't need to remind me about work every other moment, I got the memo. I'll see you at home Morgana. Oh, and tell Stella I want salmon tonight, would you?"

Morgana narrowed her light green eyes. "You're _so_ spoiled."

Arthur dropped his cigarette, stomping it out. "Oh, and you're not?" He retorted, taking notice of her diamond earrings, bracelet, and ring; he wore more expensive things than he did.

"Well…don't be surprised if I happen to 'forget' to tell Stella," she said referring to their fantastic cook and head maid. "Bye Merlin."

Arthur and Merlin walked in silence to Arthur's new red Aston-Martin DB4. A group of girls who were walking past slowed down ever so slightly, giddily giggling and whispering amongst themselves as they saw Arthur approach the car.

Just for fun, Arthur winked at one of the girls who caught his eye, and she turned quickly, covering her mouth gleefully.

"Why do you do that?" Merlin asked in disgust.

Arthur shrugged, as he literally hopped over the door and into the seat. "'Why not? It's fun."

"Something's not right 'bout you…." Merlin said shaking his head. "Oh, and nice move in Darthy's class today; nicely executed." Merlin commended his friend.

"See Merlin," Arthur started the engine "you're the only one who gets me."

"Touché."

Arthur smiled at the best friend he had ever had. Merlin was the only person who wasn't family who could look past Arthur's wealth and brashness and see who he really was; Merlin was a prize for sure.

After ten minutes of listening to the smooth and robust voice of Nat King Cole, Arthur pulled up to the local park where he and Merlin went to study whenever it was warm out. Arthur always enjoyed being outdoors, and when he decided to study at all, he preferred to do it whilst in nature.

However, if he was outside he'd rather be playing polo. Yes, he knew it was a stereotype that all of the ultra rich played the sport, but Arthur truly did enjoy it, ever since he was a boy. Merlin would get out and play with him occasionally, but Roger and Alex were his main companions in the field.

"Wow, there are a bunch of people here today." Merlin commented as they walked into the large park.

"Yeah," Arthur said plainly.

Moments of silence passed by, "are you alright Arthur?"

"Me?" He pulled out another cigarette.

"Can you give the smokes a rest?" Merlin asked annoyed, Arthur was _always_ smoking.

Had anyone else made the request, Arthur would have given them a dirty look, then make sure to "accidently" exhale the smoke in their direction, but for Merlin he put the cigarette away.

"Anyway, I'm fine…just tired of school."

Merlin wasn't sure if he totally believed Arthur's generic answer; there had been something troubling him for the past couple of weeks. His occasional "moods" were becoming all too frequent, and it seemed like a cloud of mild depression had swept over his usually cheery friend who would always indulge him in playful banter.

For example, at Cid's Diner the other day, Arthur had completely flown off the handle, blowing the colored girl' simple mistake out of proportion and making a scene over nothing. Sure, Arthur had a temper sometimes, but the way he spoke to that waitress—it was an entirely different level—even for him. Merlin only hoped the sweet waitress wasn't fired over Arthur's whining.

Arthur thought for a few moments, choosing which words he wanted to use in order to convey how he really felt, something he was not too fond of disclosing often. "I reckon I sorta feel lonesome sometime. You and Morgana are really the only true friends I have, and…" Arthur's voice trailed off as he looked at his feet, embarrassed at how needy he must've sounded.

Merlin empathized with his friend. He too was from great wealth, but Merlin had to admit that Arthur carried the larger burden. He never knew his mother, and his father just threw money at him rather than affection. And to make it worse, girls pined after him like crazy; as a result Arthur occasionally considered his looks to be a curse. Merlin knew Arthur's arrogant façade was to keep people away—well most of it was. He could be a bit of a brat…

"People are shallow, and most of them won't take the time to really get to know you." Merlin agreed.

Arthur laughed. "You can say that again." Arthur said spitting onto the pavement. "I wish I could skip all this school, and just go to work for my father."

Merlin didn't know what to say about that. Thankfully, he spotted a good spot under a large tree. "Hey, what about over there?"

"Sure." Arthur said, relieved they weren't talking of his problems any more.

* * *

><p>Gwen nearly ran to the park, she was so excited to finally get some time for herself. The park was one of the few places in town that wasn't segregated, and she enjoyed watching the ducks in the pond, or even the old couples who came to feed the pigeons.<p>

_I want that someday. _She thought sadly as she watched an old colored couple sit on a bench, their arms locked together. _The way things are going, I may as well join a cloister, _she mentally added cynically.

However, unlike usual, the "Man Department" was not completely flat lined; there was Lorenzo. Ever since that embarrassing night where he found her and consoled her (sort of) in the employee locker room, they had gotten to know each other better. She considered him a friend now…

_It was closing time, and as usual Gwen was exhausted; her feet hurt, and she had a terrible headache caused by the usual customer complaints. Her only consolation was that she made amazing tips that night, and several regulars stopped by which always gave her great joy. _

_She caught herself watching Lorenzo clean the tables by himself, with most of the staff gone for the night._

"_Need some help?" she asked walking over to the booth with a wet rag._

_Lorenzo looked over his shoulder at Gwen with a smile. "Of course."_

_Lorenzo watched Gwen's lips curve upward in a sweet smile, and his heart did back flips. He had only known her a couple of days, but he was completely drawn to her. She was always so poised and graceful, kind to anyone no matter how rude or nasty they were to her. After a few conversations with her, he had learned she was a very hard worker, and extremely intelligent. _

_And her subtle beauty made her all the more perfect in his eyes. Her skin a radiant light shade of brown, and her sweet face framed by perfect dark curls, and her brown eyes were always so gentle. She was not a runway model…but her beauty warmed the entire room. And as corny as it sounded, Lorenzo was forced to admit that her humble smile warmed his heart._

_Gwen helped him clean one of the booths in her section and she took notice of Lorenzo's knuckles. They were badly scraped and bruised by what appeared to be fresh wounds. Without thinking, Gwen picked up his left hand, her brow furrowing in concern._

"_Bar fight?" she joked._

_Lorenzo's eyes widened when he noticed that both of her hands were on his, hers were soft and warm compared to his that were bruised and battered. _Lorenzo, you're pathetic, _he chastised himself._

"_No. No bar fight," he said simply, placing the hand back on his dishtowel. "I…I uh, box. I'm in training."_

_Gwen raised an eyebrow. "Like…professionally?"_

_He tilted his head back, letting out a deep chuckle, which affectionately reverberated against the diner walls. "No, I wish! I wouldn't be here if I did!" he said, looking around. "I do fights, and win money, but it's only chump change."_

"_Are you any good?" Gwen asked as she dropped her dishtowel, and sat in the booth._

_Lorenzo hesitated as he too sat, not wanting to sound arrogant. "I'm pretty good."_

_Gwen placed both elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands. "I've never met a real boxer before."_

"_Now you have," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "It's not that great," he said shyly. He never liked too much attention._ "_It's always been my dream to go pro, ever since I was a boy in Chile."_

"_Is that where you're from?" Gwen asked, a little too excitedly._

_Lorenzo nodded. "I moved here when I was six."_

"_Oh, so you've been here a while?"_

"_Yeah, I—"_

_A waitress coworker stopped by the table, interrupting the conversation. _"_Sorry y'all, but I've gotta go home and take care of my kids. Gwen: can you lock up? I'd be surprised if my house isn't burnt to the ground by now."_

"_Are we the last ones here? I thought Joe was in the back?"_

"_Nah. He and the boss took off."_

"_Sure, I'll close. Have a nice evening, and tell your boys I said hello."_

_The red head smiled. "See ya Gwen…bye Lorenzo," she said, giving a sly smirk. She gave one quick look back at the pair before finally exiting the diner._

_Lorenzo continued. "When I retire from boxing, I want to be a trainer…maybe have my own gym. But you should come by my gym sometime, I'd love to show you around…"_

"_That'd be great." Gwen looked at her watch; it was ten o'clock. "Golly! It's late. Elliot or Daddy will be waiting up for me."_

"_Do you live far?" Lorenzo asked, standing._

"_No," Gwen hurriedly collected her belongings._

"_Let me walk you home then, it's late, and I'd just feel better if I did."_

_Gwen paused; she didn't want Lorenzo to get the wrong idea about their relationship. It was late, and it wasn't safe for a young colored woman to be out this late by herself. She usually walked home with Lucianne Neely, her coworker and neighbor, but she was out sick that day. _"_Okay, that's really sweet of you."_

_Lorenzo smiled. "Let me get my things."_

Gwen put a pause on last night's memory, Lorenzo was indeed very sweet. On the walk home, they talked mostly about her. He was a fantastic listener, one of the few men she knew who didn't just want to talk about himself. Gwen couldn't help but laugh as she remembered the scene that played out when the two of them arrived at her home.

"_Well, thank you so much Lorenzo, you really didn't have to walk me home," Gwen thanked him as they stood outside of her door. It felt like the end of a date…_

"_It's no problem really, I don't live too far from here. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you because I was too lazy."_

_Gwen shifted the purse that was falling off her shoulder. "You were very good company."_

"_You as well—" Lorenzo's attention was caught by a single light that switched on in the small house._

_Gwen saw it too, and wondered if it was Elliot or her father; she hoped it was Elliot._

"_Gwen…" Tom drawled as he slowly opened the front door. He looked at his watch, before his gaze rested upon the stranger on his doorstep with his daughter. _

"_Hi Daddy," Gwen quickly said, hoping her father didn't have the wrong idea. "This is Lorenzo Camello, he works with me. He's just walkin' me home."_

_Lorenzo put his hand out to shake with the older gentleman. _

_Tom obliged, adding, "Does he now?_ _Well, it's nice to meet you young man."_

"_He's new; he's a bus boy."_

_Lorenzo mutely nodded._

_Tom tilted his head slightly in confusion, pointing at Lorenzo. "Do you speak English boy? You're mighty quiet."_

_Gwen narrowed her eyes at her father, trying to send him telepathic messages to quit embarrassing her._

_Lorenzo laughed a little, "Yes sir, I speak English_ and_ Spanish."_

"_Hmm," Tom said evaluating the young man. He didn't _look _threatening, however Tom could tell the boy was strong, and taking in account his bruised knuckles, that he was a boxer. Tom did notice his good looks, and concluded that Lorenzo would have no trouble in the ladies department. _"_Well, it's nice to meet you young man. And thank you for walking my daughter home. It's nice to find a nice Southern gentleman these days, your mama raised you well, I reckon."_

"_It was very nice meeting you as well sir," he turned to Gwen, and could tell she was embarrassed…she was so sweet. "I'll see you Monday," they both did not work on Sundays._

"_Thanks Lorenzo," Gwen muttered._

_Lorenzo simply nodded to Tom and Gwen, before turning around to walk himself home._

_Gwen brushed past her father, and walked straight to the kitchen. She put her things down on their small kitchen table in a huff._

_Tom followed his daughter to their kitchen. "What's eatin' you?"_

"_Daddy! Do you just go outta your way to embarrass me? I thought I was fixin' to have a heart attack. Asking him if he spoke English? You don't say things like that!"_

"_Why not? It's my house, and it was a good question. The boy hadn't said a word, for all I knew he could've been hard of hearing. Anyhow, asking fellas questions and making 'em squirm is what papas are supposed to do. I just want to protect you Gwen. You're beautiful, but you also see the best in people…but a little too much."_

_Gwen's shoulders slumped; they had had this discussion on numerous occasions._

"_Not everyone you come in contact with will have good intentions like you baby, especially if they white."_

"_He's not white Daddy. He's from Chile."_

"_What's a Chile?"_

_Gwen laughed; she couldn't hold it against her father, after all, he only had a fifth grade education._

"_It's a country in South America, you know…below Mexico?"_

"_Oh." Tom took a seat at their small round kitchen table. "Well Gwen, you won't be mad at me once you hear this good news I got."_

"_Okay…"_

"_I found you a job."_

"_I've got a job Daddy."_

_Tom waved his hand dismissively. "No, I mean a good one."_

"_I'm listening." Gwen remained standing. _

"_You know that fat cat real estate guy, Luther Pendragon?"_

_Gwen knew of him. "You mean Uther?"_

"_Same difference. But I fixed the car of his secretary, a nice white woman named Lucy. Well, they're looking for another maid over at his fancy mansion. I gave her our information; you have an interview on Monday morning."_

_Gwen wasn't too thrilled…a maid? But hey, anything could beat what she put up with at Cid's. "What time?"_

"_Nine-thirty, and baby, it pays a fortune!"_

_It didn't sound too bad anymore. "Thanks Daddy, I'll be there."_

"_Okay, I'll have Elliot drop you off."_

"_I can take the bus."_

"_The interview won't take long. He'll drop you off at Cid's after."_

_Gwen gave her father a kiss. "Thank you Daddy, I love you. And I wasn't mad at you to begin with."_

"_Good night Gwen."_

Gwen couldn't help but smile at the prospect of a new—better paying—job. After two years at Cid's, she was near to approaching her limit of tolerating that place.

Deciding to finally do what she came to the park for, Gwen picked up the book that she brought with her: Ray Bradbury's "Fahrenheit 451". Only a few pages in, she was enjoying the small novel.

She spotted a young colored mother pushing her baby in a stroller. However, Gwen also saw the small child drop a rattle off the side of the stroller. The mother was totally oblivious, moving at an extremely fast pace. Unable to help herself, Gwen leapt up from her bench to retrieve the baby's rattle. However, the rattle was not the only thing that fell, for her book slipped off the bench from the momentum of her movement.

She quickly caught up to the rattle, then running up to the mother.

"Ma'am?" she said tapping the woman's shoulder.

"Yes?"

"I think your child dropped this," Gwen handed the rattle to the mother.

"Why, thank you!"

Gwen walked to the front of the stroller to look at the baby. "What's his name?"

"Jacob. Say 'hello' Jacob."

"Hi," the toothless child barely gurgled.

Gwen laughed, "You are just too handsome Jacob!" Gwen turned to the proud mother. "You have a beautiful child."

"Thank you miss."

"Have a nice day," Gwen said as she gave baby Jacob one last wave.

Gwen watched the mother and her child continue, just as she realized her book was gone. She walked in the direction she came, but it was nowhere in sight.

Merlin and Arthur had been studying for about thirty minutes when they saw some girl spring up to save the rattle of a baby.

"She dropped her book," Merlin noticed as he stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"To go get it for her.

"Merlin, I think she's perfectly capable of fetchin' the book her own self."

Merlin ignored his friend as he made his way to the book that lay on the paved path. Arthur grumbled as he got up to follow his ridiculous friend. Merlin picked it up the small book, as he saw the owner from behind in the distance, next to a stroller.

Arthur snatched the book from Merlin's hands. "Fahrenheit 451? Sounds stupid," he snorted.

Merlin snatched it back. "It was quite fascinating; don't judge a book by its cover."

"I haven't heard that one before," he said sarcastically. "Where is this girl anyway?"

Merlin pointed as Gwen turned around, a large smile on her lips. She looked familiar to Arthur…

Merlin walked towards her asking, "Is this yours?"

Gwen looked at the book in his hands, and was delighted to see that it was indeed hers. "It is…thank you for picking it up," Gwen took a moment to look at the pale and lanky boy as he handed it to her. She remembered him from the diner.

At the same moment, the recognition clicked for Merlin too. "Are you that waitress…"

"I am," she said clutching her book. Just as she uttered the words, Arthur moved to Merlin's side, previously preoccupied with lighting his cigarette. His eyes squinted, but not for long: he recognized the girl nearly immediately. Simultaneously, Gwen and Arthur's eyes widened.

"You're the—" they both rushed out.

Arthur's jaw set, "You're that simple girl who spilt those drinks all over me!"

"It was an accident which I apologized for." Gwen decided she didn't want to talk to this tall blonde brood who she now had two horrible encounters with. "Thank you, again," she said turning to Merlin.

Merlin took a bony elbow, and nudged it in Arthur's side. "Sure, what's your name? It seems like we keep running into you."

"Guinevere, but everyone just calls me Gwen."

"Guinevere…" Arthur whispered to himself. It was a beautiful name for a poor and plain colored girl.

"Gwen, I'm Merlin. And this rude oaf is Arthur."

"Nice to meet you Merlin," Gwen said smiling. He was very sweet…for a white boy any way. He did look a little strange, with his lanky limbs, thin stature, and large ears. But his eyes were gentle, and his dark hair complimented that. But his skin…he was awfully pasty; the boy needed some sun.

Arthur was wondering why the three of them were still talking to each other, why did Merlin have to be so damn friendly?

Merlin looked at his antsy friend. "I hope to see you around Gwen."

"Bye," she said smiling. "Oh, and have a nice day …Arthur."

Merlin looked at his friend, happy that this girl had been kind to him even with his nastiness. "She was lovely…unlike you."

"What! She's an idiot."

"What is wrong with you Arthur? She was a sweet girl, even though you were rude."

"You're just naïve; it's 'cause I don't like her."

"And why not? You don't even know here."

"I know her enough to know…she's strange."

Merlin gave a last look to his friend, as they both proceeded to the spot where there school materials were. For the rest of that afternoon, Merlin thought of Gwen. There was something about her he found intriguing…he only hoped that they would meet again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Curse of Perfect Days**

Gwen sat with her family in the fifth pew that Sunday, in their usual spot. Her father and brother were on either side of her, all three of them fanning themselves in a futile attempt to relieve their discomfort caused by the heat. Their small church had no cooling system whatsoever, and with all the dancing and singing that went on, it became blisteringly hot fairly quickly.

Gwen watched the extremely animated and zealous Pastor Barr pace in front of the podium as he did every Sunday. _I don't even understand why that podium is there… he sure never stands behind it._

"I think y'all are sleepin'!" he yelled hoarsely, stomping down with all the force he had to get the congregation started. "I said, can the church give me an amen?" he yelled, dabbing the perspiration from his dark forehead.

In response, the entire church clapped, and raised a joyful "Amen!"

Gwen was actually interested in Pastor Barr's sermon that Sunday, for he hadn't deviated off course as usual to talk about the oppression he felt from the whites, or the related injustice. She understood all of his anger, but she did not agree with everything the Pastor preached. Unlike him, she did not believe all white people were racist. In fact, she knew it wasn't true.

Most of the waitresses at Cid's Diner were kind to Gwen and her family. Her father's employer was a generous and loving man, who let Tom have all the paid time off he needed when her mother Celia died. And now there was Merlin… but Gwen didn't think he necessarily counted. She had just met him yesterday, but since then he had been on her mind. There was something about him she really liked… something enigmatic about him. His simple gesture of returning her book just proved all the more to Gwen that you couldn't just paint white people with a broad racist brush.

"Now, brothers and sisters, are we not the anointed ones?"

_Ahh, here we go again… it was too good to be true._

Pastor Barr's statement was welcomed with a round of applause. _What are they clapping for? He says the same thing every week!_

The Pastor actually stood still in one place, long enough to point his finger at the two hundred or so people packed into the small Baptist church. "Was it not Moses who led the chosen people of the mighty God out of Egypt?"

"Amen, yes it was!"

"And so I ask: was Moses a white man?" Pause, the Pastor cupped his hand around his ear, signaling a response from the congregation.

The congregation voiced a variety of negatives.

"So, my colored brothers and sisters, why do we continue to let the white man oppress us? He couldn't keep us down in Egypt—"

"C'mon and preach, c'mon!"

"—And he aint gonna keep us down now!" he said, resuming the pacing. "Can I get an amen?"

"Amen!"

"Choir, come on up, join me now," the pastor exhaled in ragged breaths.

Gwen sighed, reassured that the tangent was short, and now over. For her, she sought much comfort in the Church. It was where she could come to forget her problems, and be close to God: the only constant factor in her life. But when Pastor Barr insisted on pushing his agenda, it irritated her; this was God's house, not a lecture hall.

But a peace washed over her as everyone stood to raise the roof of that small church in joyful song.

* * *

><p>Sunday was the only day that Gwen had off to enjoy herself, and what was she doing with it? Sleeping. Her brother came in without knocking, taking a seat on her bed. He gently shook his younger sister's shoulder to wake her up.<p>

"Gwen, wake up."

Slowly, Gwen opened her heavy eyes, "Elliot, I'm tired, what is it?"

"There's some guy here to see you."

She sat up. Someone to see _her_? She never had any visitors—well, none that Elliot wouldn't know at least. "Who is it?"

"Uhh…" Elliot tapped his chin, thinking. "Jose?"

She stood up, putting her hair in a ponytail. "I don't know anyone named Jose."

"Actually, scratch that. That's not his name… I don't know he's some buff Mexican fella. He said he worked with you?"

Gwen immediately knew who her brother was talking about, and rolled her eyes. "Elliot, you're so thick! His name is Lorenzo!"

"It's a weird name! It sure isn't American, how am I supposed to remember!"

"He's from Chile, his name is Spanish," Gwen tried to explain as she slipped some shoes on.

Elliot smirked, "Look at little Gwen, with a Mexican boyfriend."

Gwen smiled, "Elliot, do you ever listen? He was born in Chile… and he's not my boyfriend."

"Well, he came here asking Pop if he could take you out for the day."

Gwen froze. "What?" She squinted at her brother trying to tell whether he was fibbing or not. "You are a liar Elliot Gibson! He did no such thing!"

Elliot smiled, "Sure did! He's in the kitchen!" he insisted, standing. He gave Gwen a onceover, "Ohh… He is your boyfriend!"

"Stop being so childish," she scoffed.

Gwen realized that if Elliot was with her, then that meant Lorenzo was alone with her father. God only knew how Tom was tormenting him! She rushed out of her room, determined to save Lorenzo from the wrath of the protective but brash Tom Gibson. As Gwen approached her small kitchen, she expected the sound of breaking dishes or the cocking of Tom's double barrel. But none of that was occurring, instead she heard… laughter? Revealing herself to the men, she found her father and Lorenzo next to each other, resting their backs on the counter. They looked like a pair of old friends.

"What's going on here?" Gwen asked, crossing her arms.

"This Lorenzo kid, I like him!" Tom smiled at Lorenzo who was still laughing. "He may have a funny name, but you're alright with me," he said, shaking the young man's hand.

Gwen concluded that this was not reality, and she must have been dreaming. Her father was so protective of her, he would only let Gwen go on dates with guys he had known for a long time in advance. But even after that he was still suspicious. Tom would often remind the young men who showed interest in his Guinevere that he had a double barrel in the closet, and he wasn't afraid to use it.

"Lorenzo, why are you here?" Gwen asked, as Elliot came to stand next to her. _And please don't embarrass me in front of my family…_

"I came to ask your father's permission, to see if I could spend the day with you."

Gwen could feel her light cheeks gain color as she blushed, at his simple words. No one had ever asked her father's permission to spend time with her; he had all of her potential dates running for cover. Gwen looked at her father, unsure of what to say.

"Alright with me Gwen…we went over the rules, right Lorenzo?"

"Yes sir, and you have my word."

"My man," he said slapping his back good-naturedly.

_What did he say to him! _"Uhh, Lorenzo, let me get my purse."

"You won't need it."

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "Okay." She had no idea what he was doing, nor what to say next.

"Goodbye Mr. Gibson," Lorenzo said, nodding to the older gentleman.

"Have fun, Gwen," Elliot piped up.

"I'll bring her back by curfew," Lorenzo added to Tom.

"Damn right you will," he said, his smile transforming into a look of adamancy.

Lorenzo couldn't stop smiling as he led Gwen out of her home.

"Surprise!" he said as they both stopped in the front of her house.

"Lorenzo, I'm happy to see you-" and she really was - "but why are you here? And how on earth did you get past Daddy without any bullet holes?"

"Well…honestly?"

"Preferably…"

"Well, my uncle Hector has fallen ill back in Chile. He's got seven children, and my aunt Maria can't take care of all the children and him. So we're going down for a couple of months to help out."

"Oh no, will your uncle be all right?"

"We think so, but Aunt Maria needs us, and that's what family is for, right? So I came to spend my last day here… with you."

Gwen didn't know how to respond to Lorenzo's last statement. He would be away in South America for a couple of months, yet he wanted to spend the time with her? She thought they were just friends, but friends could spend the day together… right?

"I'm flattered Lorenzo, really I am. When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow, we need to get there immediately."

"Okay," she said smiling, despite the fact that he would be leaving so soon. She enjoyed his company, but he wouldn't be gone forever, it wasn't really their _last_ day together. "Where are we going?"

Lorenzo had borrowed his father's car, for he and Gwen would be all over town that day. First, they went to go see Hitchcock's "Rear Window" which they both thoroughly enjoyed. After that, they stopped by the diner next to the theatre where they had an inexpensive dinner together.

During the meal, Gwen asked Lorenzo everything she could think of about Chile. She was so fascinated with the country, and reminded Lorenzo that he should consider himself lucky to be able to explore South America, while she was stuck in plain America.

It was when Gwen excused herself to the bathroom towards the end of their dinner that she began to feel confused and conflicted. She considered Lorenzo a dear friend… but there was no denying it now: they were on a date. And the part that alarmed her the most was how much she was enjoying herself. Lorenzo made her feel so at ease, like she had known him for two years instead of weeks. He was so kind and tender to her, and she had to admit that she knew he had feelings for her… and it was reciprocated. A wave of sadness washed over her as she realized that he'd be leaving tomorrow. She had just gotten to know him.

After dinner, they went to one last place, somewhere he knew was special to her: the park. It was there that the night really took a romantic turn. Shyly, Lorenzo lowered his hand to his side and slowly moved it to Gwen's free hand. To his surprise, she welcomed it and smiled as he entwined his fingers in hers. Could anything be more right?

But here they were now, it was twenty past seven: a mere ten minutes before Gwen's set curfew. They both sat in the borrowed car, not wanting to exit, knowing that it signaled the end of their perfect day together.

"I had a great time, Lorenzo."

"Me too, Gwen."

There was an awkward silence as Lorenzo shifted in his seat to face her. _Is it too sudden or maybe too soon… will she be offended?_ Lorenzo looked down at Gwen's lips just as a perfect curl fell onto her cheek. Slowly he brushed it away, never breaking eye contact with her. Without another word, he closed the gap between them, until their lips met. Lorenzo didn't want to rush it, and make it seem like he had been waiting to do this… like it was calculated. Plus, he wanted to enjoy it, for it was no longer just in his dreams.

Her touch was like how he imagined it would be, but suddenly—it was over.

"Lorenzo, my father will see," she said scooting as far away from him as she could.

He took a moment to respond, wishing that she hadn't pulled away so soon. "You're right… I'm sorry." Lorenzo rushed out of the car to open the passenger door for his date. They walked to her front door together, and stopped…. neither of them wanted to be the one to utter the departing words.

"Well, I'll miss you then, Gwen."

"But we'll see each other again… soon," she replied, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

Lorenzo gave her a smile before a quick kiss on her cheek, quickly turning back to his car.

Later that night as Gwen was preparing for bed, she realized that neither of them uttered the word 'goodbye'.

* * *

><p>Monday: Arthur Pendragon's least favorite day. It was the day where the fun and excitement of the weekend ceased, and he would spend the next five or six days in school. Begrudgingly, he got out of bed, staggering to the bathroom that was attached to his gargantuan room. Jumping into the shower, he welcomed the warm water as it woke him up completely.<p>

Twenty minutes later, he was going down the wooden spiral staircase of his three-story mansion. His shoes tapped on the imported tile of the foyer as he walked to the ornate dining room. The scents of breakfast wafted from the kitchen, no doubt originating from another marvelous "Stella Creation".

"Good morning, Arthur," the older colored woman greeted.

"Good morning, Stella. What do we have here today?" he asked sitting down at the large mahogany table.

Arthur's mother had designed much of the house, but the kitchen and dining room were her prizes. The foyer contained an imported all-crystal chandelier and a miniature version over the long dining table. The surrounding walls were a deep maroon color, with matching dark furniture. Art from all over the world hung perfectly on the walls, without a speck of dust.

"Only your favorites!"

Arthur smiled at the woman he had known, and who had cared for him since birth. She was his nanny before he came of age, when she was then promoted as head cook and maid; she singlehandedly ran the house. Stella was always so patient with Arthur, often treating him as her own child, something she and her husband were never blessed with. Stella was the one person whose dark pigment was of no significance to Arthur, nor provoked unexplainable contempt. In his eyes, she was a saint and surrogate mother. So much so that Uther had to reprimand the servant on several occasions, reminding her that she was only the help; not his family. Arthur would always become agitated when he heard of such conversations. Uther viewed Stella as a commodity who could easily be replaced, but Arthur sure didn't see her that way.

But of course, none of his friends but Merlin knew of this special relationship he enjoyed with Stella. There would be hell to pay if any of them found out that the only mother he truly ever had was a poor, uneducated, colored woman.

Stella came back from the kitchen, with a plate bursting with waffles and syrup, fruit, along with eggs and bacon. Arthur looked at the food from his seat, rubbing his hands together.

"Stella, you're going to get me fat!"

"I sure hope not!" she replied, laughing.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, I had some extra time, so I thought I would make something special for you. But you better step to: don't them classes start at nine?"

He answered with his mouth full. "Don't remind me."

"Well, it's eight-thirty. Wouldn't want you to be late," she said, leaving Arthur in the vast dining room, humming her favorite tune. The same tune Arthur would find himself later humming at school.

* * *

><p>Elliot and his sister pulled up to the gate of the Pendragon estate at nine-twenty, with Gwen in the passenger seat, mesmerized by the beauty and grandeur of the vast Pendragon property. In breathtaking décor true to the Victorian era, it was composed of red brick, containing various platforms and balconies. In Gwen's opinion, it was more appropriate to call the place a castle! There was a porch-like structure surrounding much of the house, enclosed by trees and immaculate landscaping.<p>

A colored man in uniform was in charge of the gate, and walked to their vehicle.

"Good morning."

"Hello. My sister has an appointment… a job interview at nine-thirty."

The man looked at his clipboard. "Name?"

"Gwen Gibson."

"May I see some identification?"

_Identification, what is this place?_ "Sure, just a moment." Gwen rummaged through her purse, pulling out her wallet. She showed the man her new driver's license.

"Thank you," he said, nodding and tapping the tip of his hat. He then proceeded to push a button which slowly opened the gate.

It was only then when Gwen saw the true beauty of the place she hoped to be working at soon. In front of the ridiculously large home was a beautiful fountain, which sprouted clear water. The circular road around it was paved with a light gray brick, contrasting with the light red brick of the home.

Elliot followed the long driveway until he got to a roundabout at the front of the house. Immediately, another man in uniform opened the door for Gwen once the car was parked.

"Good morning."

"Why, thank you," Gwen said, as the gentleman held her hand to help her out of the car. She wasn't used to this kind of treatment… and the man had only assisted her out of the vehicle! Gwen's attention was then caught by the beautiful white steps which ascended to the entrance of like colored double doors. _This place is magnificent…_

Elliot came to stand by his sister's side. "She's here for a job interview with a Stella Watson."

"Ahh, Ms. Stella, she's waiting right inside. Just go up the steps."

"Thank you."

Elliot turned to his sister. "Good luck Gwen, I know you'll knock it outta the park."

"Thanks Elliot. You'll just wait in the car?"

"Yup."

Gwen didn't look back as she joyfully went up the stone steps. She saw an older woman in a black dress and white apron waiting for her.

"Are you Gwen Gibson?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good morning Gwen, I'm Stella Watson."

Gwen shook her hand. "Thank you for making time for me, Mrs. Watson. You must be busy… with everything," Gwen said, looking around the expansive estate.

"No problem. Follow me."

Gwen followed the woman past a foyer of such beauty, she thought they only existed in the fiction novels she liked to indulge in. The tile shone to such a high sheen, Gwen could literally see her reflection. Were those crystals up there? And… a winding staircase! _I have stepped into a complete alternate universe…_

"It's overwhelming the first time, isn't it?" Stella asked the young girl when she noticed her taking notice at every fine detail of the grand foyer.

"Yes ma'am… It's beautiful, just beautiful."

Stella smiled, she very much liked this girl… there was a sort of innocence to her. It was quite lovely. Stella walked into the kitchen, where she invited Gwen to sit at a small table where some of the servants ate their meals.

"So Gwen, from the beginning then, shall we?"

"A fine place to start," Gwen replied, smiling.

"Sure is. Okay, so tell me, what can you do?"

_You want this job Gwen; you've got to sell yourself._ "Well I've been cooking since I was a girl, so I could always help with that. My mother was a seamstress, so I am fine at mending things. I've been running my house since I was eight-"

Stella raised her eyebrows. Since she was eight?

"—so I'm no stranger to cleaning. I've worked at a diner for two years, so I'm used to being on my feet all day, and tending to people… in the event of parties. Hard work and I are friends; I do what needs to be done.

"Very impressive," Stella said, immediately making her decision. She liked this girl, sort of reminded her of herself some decades ago, and with her sweet manner, she would blend well with the accepting staff. "Well, the hours would be from nine until six. Monday through Fridays, and you can pick your Saturdays, if any. The head of the house lets the staff who don't live on site have the day off on Sunday. And from the address Mr. Pendragon's secretary gave me, you live in the neighborhood of some of our staff. Alice Marshall, does that ring a bell?"

"Mrs. Marshall, I know her." _I forgot she worked here… wait, does that mean I got the job?_

"You would be especially tending to Ms. Morgana. You two will get along, she's a doll who is only two years older than you. The woman who quit used to tend especially to her… is that a problem with you?"

_Wait…I do have the job!_ "Yes… yes, of course!" Gwen tried not to become overly excited.

"Fantastic. You can start tomorrow," the woman stated without really even asking.

Gwen wanted to do back flips on the spot. _Finally! I can give Cid a piece of my mind as I tap dance my way out of that place! Goodbye rude customers, goodbye evil boss, goodbye hideous pink uniform!_

"As luck would have it," Stella continued, "the young lady who left was small. I'd say precisely your size."

Gwen watched as the older woman reached into the chair next to her producing a black uniform with a white collar. _Is there a little hat to match?_

Stella ducked under the table to look at the girl's shoes. "You can wear those with the dress, as long as they don't scuff."

Gwen retrieved the uniform, and put it on her lap.

"I'll talk to Alice. She'll be by your house to pick you up at eight-thirty sharp."

"Perfect, thank you so much Mrs. Watson."

"Call me Stella. Can you find your way out?" she asked, standing.

"Yes ma'am. I look forward to starting tomorrow."

"Me too, it's always nice to have young people around."

Gwen did the best she could to stop herself from running down the steps to tell her brother the news. She startled Elliot when she opened the passenger door.

"That was fast!"

"I got it!" Gwen squealed.

Elliot smiled. "Of course! They'd be fools to turn you down," he said, starting up the car. "Did you meet the big boss?"

"Of course not, he's probably busy at work."

"How about his son?"

"Now why would I have met his son Elliot! It was a job interview."

"Maybe it's good you didn't, you'd be running in the other direction!" Elliot said snickering.

Gwen glared at him, she didn't want him to rain on her parade, but he continued.

"His name is Arnold, and I hear he's a terror. He's supposedly a skirt-chasing, stuck up, first class prick. You probably won't see him much though. Some guys at the shop talk about him, he has a _real_ reputation."

"Oh, you gossip like a woman!" Gwen sighed as they drove toward the exit.

"I'm sure he's not that bad."

"I don't know…I sure wouldn't wanna meet him."

* * *

><p>The next morning Alice Marshall was in front of Gwen Gibson's home at eight-thirty on the dot, and Gwen was out of her house faster than a speeding bullet.<p>

"Good morning, Alice," Gwen greeted her neighbor, "I'm so excited about my first day!" Gwen said unable to suppress her smile.

"I can only imagine, what a blessing this job must be for your family!" Alice exclaimed in reply.

"Indeed." Gwen was ecstatic that she would not have to share a twenty minute car ride with a complete stranger. Alice lived a few doors down in a slightly larger home, and went to her church. She was a sweet woman with four boys; one of them came to her reading class on Saturday mornings.

"Did you get rid of that waitressing job?" Alice asked as she drove on down the road.

"Yes, I did," Gwen answered, remembering the event with a smile.

_Immediately after her interview, Elliot dropped Gwen off at Cid's, grinning from ear to ear. She went straight to the employee room without a word, and cleaned out her locker and then went to find her ex-boss._

"_Where the hell are you going!" he nearly yelled when he saw the contents in the girl's arms. "Go on and get to your shift, or your fired!"_

"_I'm gettin' far away from here Mr. McCoy. I can't say it's been a pleasure working for you… but thank you anyway," Gwen said, shifting the few items that were in her locker._

"_You can't just leave!" he insisted._

"_Oh I can't?" she said in a sarcastic tone which she relished. Finally, she didn't have to hold her tongue in fear of losing her job. "I collected my check last Friday. And let's not fool ourselves, sir; you never wanted me here to begin with. So I get to move on out of this dump, and you get rid of me like I know you've been aching to do since I got here."_

_Cid's mouth was in a straight line as he watched the ungrateful colored girl joyously whistle "For the Beauty of the Earth" as she exited his diner for the last time._

After about twenty minutes of silence, the women pulled up the beautiful estate.

"Stella told me to tell you all your daily duties."

"Okay, sounds good," Gwen said, as the women stepped out of the vehicle.

Gwen waved to the gentleman who helped her out of the car yesterday; she learned his name was Greg. She took notice of three expensive cars that weren't there yesterday: a red, blue, and black one. Two of which we sport convertibles. _Must be nice._

Gwen followed Alice into the mansion where she could smell breakfast being prepared. Alice stopped in the marvelous foyer.

"Alright, ready?"

"Yes," Gwen said bracing herself.

"You are responsible for the rooms of Ms. Morgana and her cousin. That means: vacuuming, dusting, cleaning the shutters and windows, changing the sheets and towels every other day, cleaning the clothes that are in their hampers, and cleaning their attached bathrooms. Make sure you mop the bathrooms; they get in frenzy when that's not done. Now, when you're done with that, you're also responsible for Mr. Pendragon's study, and let me say he expects it to be immaculate. And I mean it… you don't want to see him angry, heads will roll. Then when that's through, your responsible for the cleaning the sitting room… full of wood furniture. That means get all the picture frames and vases, heck, the fireplace too! But do that last. Then you will help serve dinner. After that, your day is through. If you do all those things properly, you should be occupied most of the day. Any questions?"

Gwen shook her head.

"Good, I'll go get your supplies."

Gwen waited as Alice nearly ran out of her sight, and quickly came back with a large bucket filled with cleaning agents.

"If you need a mop, a broom, anything, go to that cabinet there."

Gwen nodded; she was at a loss for words.

"Okay," Alice said out of breath. "Good luck."

Gwen stood there in the foyer wondering where she should go first. She decided that Morgana's room would be best… but where was that? Not wanting to be a bother, she walked up the mahogany spiral staircase to the second floor. The hall was long, but she opened the first two rooms, and could tell they were for guest. The next one she opened to step into an extremely large room. Gwen gasped… this was not a bedroom… this was an apartment!

The large purple canopy bed would swallow up any room of normal size; instead it was dwarfed by the room's greatness. The section right next to the door was like a miniature living room with a table and chairs, and an expensive radio on the round table. _Why on earth would someone want another living room in their bed room?... Rich people._

Past the odd mini-living room was the large canopy bed, with adjacent bedside tables. In front of it was a mirror and seat, no doubt where Morgana did her hair and makeup every morning. To the right of that was an elegant oak wardrobe, large enough to contain clothing for four people. _My wardrobe would have to be multiplied by five to occupy that large thing. _And next to that was a changing station, and heavy drapes over the large windows that matched the canopy.

Gwen was still in awe as she made her way to an attached bathroom which had… a separate tub and shower! Gwen laughed at how impractical that was. The white tile was waxed to a high gloss; it was quite beautiful.

Gwen sighed as she exited the bathroom, only to hear a male calling out.

"Morgana! Have you left already?"

Gwen moved further, only to run directly into the man, nearly bouncing off of him.

The momentum sent them both back a little, and Gwen looked up into a pair beautiful and startled blue eyes. _Arthur… from the diner and the park? What is he… oh no._

"What the hell are you doing here?" Arthur exclaimed, as he took a quick look at her attire and he couldn't believe his eyes. "_You're_ the new maid!" he nearly yelled.

Gwen stood there… so this was _Arnold_. She knew never to trust her brother when it came to names, never. "I can't believe it…you live here!"

"Of course, I'm Arthur Pendragon. How did you not know who I was? Haven't you seen the photos all over the house!" How could_ the_ waitress be here!

"I've only been in three or four of the rooms, sir."

"I can't believe _you_ are working here. Why didn't anyone tell me?" Arthur said to himself, his hysteria simmering down. Then he remembered. "Wait, don't you work at that trash heap of a diner?"

Well, at least they could agree on one thing. "I quit yesterday."

"Oh… Guinevere wasn't it?" He wanted to make sure he had her name so he could be specific later on the details of the new maid who he wanted fired.

She smiled that he remembered who she was, and he seemed to be kinder—well, a little. _Large improvement from the last two times I had the displeasure of meeting you. _"Yes. But you can call me Gwen."

He just looked at her. "No, I'll call you Guinevere," he stated his intentions matter-of-factly. "Do you know where Morgana is?"

"No, sir."

"Oh. Well… bye, Guinevere," Arthur said, giving the maid one last sideways glance.

"Uhh, bye, sir." Gwen stood there, unsure of why that went so well. It seemed like a switch went off, and he actually began to treat her with some dignity. She shook her head, wondering why she kept running into this guy.

First at the restaurant where he was awful, then at the park… where he was still awful, and now she would see him every day. Of all the rich people that needed a maid, it had to be him. How strange life could be. _How did I even get here? This past week has just been so… dramatic._

Arthur stood outside of Morgana's room, listening to the new maid whistle a tune. She was so peculiar, yet she kept showing up in his life… but why? _She's just another maid, she doesn't mean anything, _Arthur told himself. However, that entire day the only thing he could focus on was the probability of a thing like this happening.

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired by: "The Curse of Perfect Days" by Emery<em>


	4. Chapter 4

Much thanks as always to the best Beta-Reader ever; Xbakiyalo. This is the chapter a lot of you have been waiting for. Happy reading, love you guys.

YoureAnIllusion

**Chapter 4: Baby, I've Been Dead My Whole Life**

It was Saturday, and the last day of Gwen's first week working in the beautiful Pendragon mansion. There was no doubt in her mind that her new job was a deliverance from her two years of being waitress. The staff, composed of forty-two people, welcomed Gwen into their fold, and did their best to help her adjust to her new duties and schedule. Stella, however, was the one who took special care of her, asking for Gwen especially to help her with dinner and other small tasks, just so she could get to know the girl.

Even after her first week, Gwen still found it absolutely remarkable that it only took forty-two people to run the vast estate. The two gardens, stable with five horses, a pool, and a set of double tennis courts were all immaculate by the end of the day.

Gwen was most happily surprised in regards to her relationship with Morgana. She didn't actually meet the lady of the house until her second day on the job, when she was changing her bed sheets. Morgana came in quietly, and politely introduced herself, making small talk with the new maid who she found to be very sweet. There had only been three days since then, but Gwen and Morgana had taken to each other. Gwen never knew that rich people could be as kind as Morgana had been to her.

"Good morning Gwen," Morgana nearly sung as she walked into her room, exhausted.

"Ms. Morgana, you're back awfully early." Gwen noted that it was only about one o'clock.

"Stop calling me that! I'm just plain ol' Morgana," she insisted, addressing the excruciatingly polite maid.

Gwen smiled. "Are your classes finished for the day?"

"Yeah," she sighed, as she jumped onto her bed.

"Any plans for the rest of the afternoon?" Gwen asked, as she dusted off Morgana's dresser.

"Nope, nothing at all… but Gwen, you don't have to dust my furniture _every _day. You're just working for nothing then."

"Alright," Gwen said, resting the feather duster to her side.

"But, don't you dare skip any corners in Arthur's room, he'll become diabolical!" The two girls laughed at Morgana's witty remark. Gwen noticed that every chance she got, Morgana would tease her beloved cousin.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Gwen confessed. "He doesn't seem to like me very much," she confided.

"And why not?"

Gwen stood there, wondering if she should tell Morgana about the first time she met Arthur at Cid's…

"Well, I've met him before, at my old job."

"At Cid's? Oh, I want to hear this story!" Morgana nearly squealed. "Gwen, come sit next to me, we're friends," she said, patting the open space next to her on the bed.

Gwen went to sit on the edge of Morgana's bed, covering her face in her hands in mild embarrassment. "It was absolutely terrible." Gwen paused, not sure if she wanted to divulge the incident after all.

"Go on then," Morgana goaded, giddy in anticipation.

Gwen smiled at Morgana's insistence, her tone changing to that of a gossiping schoolgirl. "Well, one night Arthur, Merlin, and three other guys came into the diner. One of them was just bored I guess, or wanted to get me in trouble. So he lied, saying that I brought him the wrong drink. Well, I sort of argued with him..."

"Really!" Morgana exclaimed. "I know the people Arthur hangs out with, and they're mostly rotten."

Gwen laughed to herself, "Well then I accidentally knocked two drinks over onto Arthur's lap!"

Morgana began to howl in laughter. "You didn't! Oh, Arthur remembers petty things like that. No wonder he's so sour around you!"

"Then in the park I ran into him and Merlin—"

"Arthur loves that park," Morgana interrupted, knowing exactly which park Gwen was referring to.

"Really? I do too."

"Ok, go on!"

"Well, Merlin was a sweetheart, and picked up the book that I had dropped."

"Just like Merlin."

"Well, Arthur was rude to me there too. That's when I learned his name, after he brought up the incident at the diner of course. Little did I know that he would live _here_! My brother thought his name was Arnold," Gwen recalled, shaking her head at Elliot's terrible memory.

"That's so crazy…" Morgana's voice trailed off. "He'll come around though, Gwen. He may seem like a brat, but really he is very thoughtful and kind. Have you seen the way he is with Stella?"

"No."

"Well, he probably wouldn't admit it, but he loves her like a mother. She used to be his nanny, and when Uncle Uther isn't around, you'll find Arthur in the kitchen talking to her and joking around. He's extremely tender with the woman; it's quite sweet actually. And you can tell Stella's so proud of him, just like he was her own son."

"Wow…I never would've expected that."

"Yeah, just keep your eyes peeled, you'll see. He's different than you think."

* * *

><p>Later that day, Gwen walked into Arthur's room and sighed at the clothes that were strewn about instead of being in the hamper. She took a peek in the hamper, and noticed that Arthur's polo gear was in there, and she audibly groaned. His polo bottoms were white, and took the longest time to bleach perfectly clean. <em>How does a single person go through all these clothes?<em> she asked herself, taking in the messy state of the room, the same room she had cleaned yesterday.

She decided to tackle the bathroom last, and clean his bedroom first. The dusty blinds caught her attention, and she decided she'd deal with those first. She began to sing her favorite hymn "Abide with Me" as she got her feather duster out of her bucket. She looked out of Arthur's second floor window, and saw a couple of servants doing yard work in the large front garden. She took a moment to marvel at the magnificent and colorful garden from a bird's eye view. She wondered if Arthur or Morgana ever went outside to their private stone balconies just to gaze at the beautiful grounds. She saw Arthur's ashtray on the balcony's ledge, and made a mental note to empty it later.

Still singing, she bent down to reach the bottom of the blinds where the majority of the dust collected. On her way back up to her standing position, she hit her head on Arthur's heavy oak desk.

"Ouch!" she yelped, as she stood straight, rubbing the soon-to-be bump on her head. She looked at the desk, which was quite clean and organized unlike the rest of the room. It was so orderly, that it looked like it wasn't used frequently. An expensive typewriter rested in the middle of the large desk, and a neatly typed paper sat next to it. Curiosity encompassed Gwen, resulting in her uncontrollable urge to pick up the paper.

"MacBeth: Murder Most Foul or Fair," she giggled as she read the title to herself out loud. _How do you spell the name of the play wrong? _Briefly skimming the first paragraph, Gwen threw her head back, losing herself in uncontrollable laughter. _Did he even read the play! Elliot could write a better paper than this!_

* * *

><p>Merlin had come over to Arthur's home unannounced (as usual) just to kill time with his best friend. With no siblings, and parents who were usually busy touring Europe, his own home often felt empty and lonesome.<p>

Merlin waved at the staff who greeted him as he made his way to the Pendragon living room, where he found Arthur sprawled on the couch watching television.

"Hey, Merlin," Arthur exclaimed when he saw his friend.

Merlin jumped on the couch next to him. "You up for some studying?" he teased.

"No," Arthur frowned, turning away.

"I'm just joking!" Merlin said, laughing. "Can I stay for dinner tonight?"

"Of course, you don't even have to ask anymore, you eat with us like every night."

Merlin laughed at the truth of the statement. Then he remembered. "Hey, can I read your English paper?"

"It's horrible as usual," Arthur said, stretching. "But I'll go get it if you really want."

Arthur jogged up the spiral staircase, stopping at the second floor. Walking down the hallway until he stopped in front of his room, where he heard a peculiar sound. Next to his open door, he listened to the new maid sweetly sing a familiar hymn. Her voice was not trained, nor was it smooth or crisp. Yet it was sweet, and he could tell she was enjoying giving voice to the old hymn. He stood, listening to the familiar tune:

"Fast falls the even tide. The darkness deepens, Lord with me abide…" her voice floated from the large room into the long nearly empty hallway.

Arthur smiled as he recognized the hymn; it was one of his favorites. He took a quick peek, and saw her cleaning his dusty blinds. He had never taken the time to really _look_ at the maid, for he was always too busy insulting or reprimanding her in the several encounters they had shared since she began her new job one week ago.

But at that moment, hidden in the shadows of the dark hallway, he finally took into account her subtle beauty. He was surprised that he hadn't noticed the way her curls fell perfectly just past her shoulders, or the way her sun-kissed skin radiated a glow like none he had seen before. Previously he had just considered her to be a plain girl… but he was quickly rethinking his previous judgment. Aware that he was actually analyzing her beauty, he nearly smacked himself. _Arthur, what the hell are you doing!_ he mentally chastised himself. _She's a colored for Christ's sake. But she sure is pretty_. The last thought made him mentally curse his train of thought. _It doesn't mean anything. Hell, I see pretty girls all the time; I could count a hundred girls of greater beauty than her any day, _Arthur thought, finally convincing himself.

He shook the taboo thoughts out of his mind, but he still couldn't pull himself away from the dark hallway where he watched the maid go about her cleaning. He saw Gwen bump her head on his desk, and he had to cover his mouth so he wouldn't laugh at her miscalculation, and his presence be revealed.

However, she was the one doing the laughing as she bent over his desk. It was at that moment that Arthur remembered the paper he was supposed to be retrieving was the very thing she had to be laughing at. For reasons he couldn't explain, he became embarrassed as the sweet laughter of the new maid echoed out of the bedroom. She was laughing at his paper! Rage consumed Arthur Pendragon's body at the maid's insolence as he rushed into_ his_ room. His stride heavy against the hardwood floors, Gwen heard him before she saw his furious frame.

Finding him just past the doorway, the maid reflexively dropped the paper as she moved away from his desk.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Arthur demanded, as he walked to his desk. All the pleasant thoughts he previously entertained of the maid were now only a distant memory. He picked up his essay, just to confirm that she was indeed laughing at his literature work.

Gwen put her head down, preparing for his wrath.

"I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again," she rushed out, admitting her guilt.

Arthur clenched onto his paper, and looked down at Gwen. She kept her eyes to the ground, and it was then when he realized just how small she was. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Why were you looking at my things?"

"I wasn't sir, it just caught my eye, that's all."

Arthur squinted as he looked down at the paper. "And what the hell is so funny about it anyway? Was it horrible or something?" he lightly joked. He knew the maid wouldn't have the audacity to tell him even if it were true.

Gwen removed her gaze from the mahogany hard wood floor, and focused on any other spot in the large room that was away from his penetrating stare.

Finally Gwen met his gaze, in the silence debating whether or not she should tell him the truth: the paper was a perfect example of laziness_, _and he deserved a failing grade for such a disgrace to literature.

"No, it's a fine paper—" she began, but saw Arthur's face contort at her lie. It was at times like these when Gwen Gibson wished that she was able to produce a convincing fib. Finally yielding, she told the truth. "Yes, it was… horrible."

Arthur was taken aback by her brute honesty. Just about everyone he knew lied in an effort to win his graces, or avoid his wrath. The staff of the Pendragon Estate _especially_ would never admit such a thing to their privileged master, in fear for their jobs; in the past Arthur had managed to get staff fired for offenses less grievous.

Narrowing his eyes at her, he replied icily, throwing the document back on the desk. "What do you know? You're just a maid."

"Sir, I've read Macbeth, which you spelled incorrectly in the title."

Arthur's eyes widened as he looked over the desk, at the paper's title.

"Also, within your introduction, it becomes abundantly clear that you did not complete the play. And if you did…" her voice trailed off, as she decided not to voice her next criticism; she was becoming too sassy.

Her arrogance greatly angered him. Who was she to put him in his place? Yet, he was a little amused at her confidence. It wasn't every day that someone stood up to him, especially not a poor colored woman of whom _he_ was the superior. She definitely had spunk, but it was that which troubled him; he knew right then and there that he would never manage control her the way he was able to manipulate other people.

Though impressed with her grit, he needed to let her know that he was the one in control here. As a result, he grappled with the words he would need to put the uppity colored in her place.

"H-h-how dare you!" he barely got out, shaking his head at his occasional impediment. "Who do you think you are, talking out of place like that?"

Gwen thought about whether or not she should reply…

Arthur picked up the paper. "How do I know you're not lying about reading the play?"

Gwen resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. "Well sir," she began, trying to regain politeness, "I teach a second grade English class on Saturdays, so I need to be well read myself. In fact, Macbeth is one of my favorite plays. Shakespeare was very talented, all of his characters and plots are so complex yet natural." She smiled, thinking of the playwright. "It's kind of like real life-" She cut herself off, remembering that Arthur was still upset, and here she was rambling on about Shakespeare.

Arthur began to wonder why she was working as a maid if she taught second graders. Arthur's flash of anger began to pass as Gwen's smile faded. He noted that she smiled a lot… it was strange. He leafed through the five-page document as Gwen said:

"I must move on now. Have a good afternoon, sir." Gwen spun, picking up her bucket, ready to race out of the room. Arthur was silent, looking at her for several prolonged moments, and she figured now was an ideal time to escape.

"Wait!" Arthur burst out.

Gwen stood like a statue at his words, her back to Arthur.

"Guinevere, I—" Arthur sucked in a deep breath that nearly wracked his lungs. In order to do what he was about to, he had to swallow years of crippling pride and self-entitlement. "You're obviously an expert in Shakespeare—"

"Oh, no, no," she said nervously, her hands shaking as she turned around to face him once again. "I'm nothing of the sort, sir."

"Well, you sure know a hell of a lot more than I do."

"Are you asking for my help, sir?"

Arthur just stared at her. Didn't she get it! Of course that's what he was doing, did he have to spell it out for her!

"Just forget it," he said turning around, embarrassed that he asked _her_ at all. What had he been thinking? A single moment of weakness… that was all.

Gwen displayed a small smile as she walked towards Arthur. She commended him for swallowing his pride long enough to sort of ask her for assistance…perhaps Morgana was right about her cousin.

"Well," Gwen said, gently taking the paper from his hands, "did you read the play, sir?"

Arthur ran a hand through his blonde hair. "I think we both know the answer to that," he retorted, still unable to swallow his sarcasm. Baby steps. He couldn't completely change in one day.

Gwen wondered how he figured that she would be able to help him if he hadn't even read the thing. "Alright, that might be the first thing you want to do."

"No kidding," he huffed.

Ignoring his persistent caustic attitude, Gwen skimmed the first page. "Your writing style isn't horrible, but the mangling of the facts sort of…destroys the paper. When is it due?"

"Monday."

Gwen sucked in her breath involuntarily, was he insane or just a serious procrastinator?

"I'm doomed!" Arthur whined as he collapsed into his desk chair. _Why am I even talking to her, when she only persists in irritating me? How have I managed to stay civil around her f_

"Well sir, I wouldn't say you're exactly doomed. You'll just have a couple of late nights—" she paused, taking her last statement into consideration. "Really late nights, working hard. That's all."

Arthur gave her a "do-you-know-who-I-am" look. He wouldn't go out of his way for a literature assignment.

"Honestly, I don't even know if I can do that, not if I'm totally unmotivated."

A small laugh escaped from Gwen's lips. "Well, sometimes—"

"Arthur!" Merlin called out, as he ran into his friend's room. He stopped in his tracks, and back and forth at Arthur. If his large ears hadn't deceived him…he had heard laughing and words of encouragement coming from this very room. Arthur was sitting down; with Gwen near to his side… but there was no argument. What had he walked into?

Arthur and Gwen just stared at Merlin like deer in headlights. They had only been talking, but even that was strange, when their brief history was considered. For a few precious moments, neither of the three said a word, suspended in an awkward silence.

Merlin pointed to the door, "I, uh… Arthur?" he garbled. More silence, "I was wondering why you were taking so long."

Arthur stole a quick glance at Gwen, who had a look on her face that he couldn't read. He proceeded to try and explain why he and Gwen were together.

"Guinevere was just helping me with my Macbeth paper," Arthur rushed out, but immediately regretted his choice of words.

Merlin's dark eyebrows shot up in shock, as he looked to Gwen. "

Arthur decided not to say anything else that would make the situation even more awkward.

"Good afternoon, Merlin," Gwen said, nodding at Merlin. "Well, I've got to go, and... clean!" Gwen exclaimed, picking up her bucket of cleaning agents, and finally exiting the room.

Merlin moved from the doorway to let her pass, and looked at his friend. Once Gwen was out of earshot: "Did I interrupt something?"

Arthur snapped. "Don't be ridiculous Merlin!" he said, standing.

"Well, what were you two doing?" Merlin found it extremely peculiar that they were alone together for any period of time without going at each other's throats. Gwen was always the exemplar of politeness, but Arthur was brutal. It would only be a matter of time until she snapped like many of the other former maids. For many of the ex-staff of the Pendragon Estate, even the considerable income paled in comparison to Arthur's rudeness and difficulty.

"What are you implying?" Arthur added.

"Nothing…it's just…I thought you hated her." Merlin shrugged.

"I don't hate her," Arthur confessed. In fact, he was just beginning to tolerate her. "I just didn't like her resistance. That's all," Arthur winced at his statement. It sounded extremely callous, even to his ears.

"So, what was all of that about then?"

Arthur threw his awful _Macbeth _paper at Merlin, who barely caught it. "This. She read some of it, and thought it was terrible. I walked in on her laughing at it," Arthur explained, slightly fudging some of the details of _how_ he caught her. _Merlin already has the wrong idea. No need to fuel them._

Merlin laughed. "She told you that!"

"Basically, but I don't blame her."

Merlin wondered how Arthur hadn't jumped down Gwen's throat if that was really what she had said.

"I haven't even read the damn play, Merlin, and this cursed thing is due on Monday!" Arthur fumed, referring to his assignment. "Did you know coloreds read Shakespeare?" Arthur asked in all seriousness.

"I never thought of it, but I guess Gwen does," Merlin replied, chuckling. Then seriously, "I told you…there's something about her."

"She's uppity," Arthur snarled.

Merlin rolled his eyes. He looked down at his friend's paper. "You know, you spelled Macbeth wrong?"

* * *

><p>Gwen couldn't help but replay the encounter she had had with Arthur mere hours ago whilst completing her other tasks. However, she put those thoughts on pause as she was greeted by Stella as she walked into the kitchen.<p>

"Anything I can help with?" Gwen asked the head staff member.

"Of course, dear," Stella smiled, always so happy to see the exuberant girl. The older woman pointed to a pile of potatoes that lay on the adjacent marble counter. "Could you peel those for me?"

Gwen nodded, moving past Alice and another servant who were working in the kitchen, preparing dinner for that night. Gwen grabbed a peeler, and stood in between Stella and Alice who were already engaged in a conversation.

"I hope it comes to a close soon. It's been what, two years now?" Alice said, shaking her head as she chopped the onions that would go into the stuffing.

"It has been a couple of years hasn't it?" Alice agreed. "It doesn't feel like it though. But it's 'bout time we got some type of change."

Gwen silently peeled the potatoes, unaware of what the two women were talking about. Then Marge, the other woman in the kitchen piped up, joining the conversation.

"My boy Johnny, he goes to the elementary school down the street from our neighborhood, you know the one?"

"Dearborn?" Alice asked.

"That's the one," Marge said, pausing from making the gravy over the gas stove. "Well, Johnny comes home every day, talkin' 'bout how somethin' new is breakin' in that slipshod buildin' they call a school. His textbooks?" The woman paused to shake her head at the thought. "Barely hangin' by a thread, and, golly, are they old."

"My boys go to Sheldon elementary, and y'all know it's one of the best colored schools in town."

Stella and Marge nodded at Alice's statement in agreement.

"Well even there, one book is read by five or six of the kids at a time! Now, you tell me if they gotta do that at that fancy white school five blocks away?"

The two women nodded. "I just hope that once Brown vs. the Education Board is through, that we'll finally get the schools our kids deserve."

Gwen finally understood that they were talking about the trial that was reportedly near a close. She found it hard to believe, however, for it had been going on for years. In her opinion, the harsh reality was that the country just wasn't ready for the integration of public schools. Gwen knew, however, that some type of change was necessary. Her Saturday pupils were the products of the same underfunded and neglected schools that the women were speaking of, and before her instruction many of the eight and nine year olds could hardly read.

Stella looked at Gwen, who had remained quiet for the duration of their conversation. "I think it's a wonderful thing what you're doing Gwen, teaching them kids in your free time. How come you ain't a teacher yet, dear?"

Gwen looked up from the potatoes. "Oh, I don't want to be a teacher. I like reading and children, so I figured teaching a reading class was only rational. But I really want to become a nurse; I'm just saving up money so I can go to school."

Stella smiled at the girl's dreams, they were lofty, but she believed Gwen could do it. She had only been here a week, and she hadn't heard the girl voice a single complaint about anything. And that was saying a lot, because she knew that her dear Arthur was being difficult with her… she'd have to talk to him later about that. _If only Arthur had the same determination towards learning that Gwen does. That boy wastes his God-given opportunities… he needs to start taking them to books, instead of them girls._

Little did Stella know however, that Arthur had sent his best friend home over an hour ago, and was in his room reading _Macbeth_.

_Title Inspired by: "Baby, I've Been Dead My Whole Life" by Tonight Is Glory_


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello everyone, and I do sincerely apologize for the wait. But you get an extra long chapter to make up for it ;) Hope you enjoy, comments much appreciated (I already have the next two chapters, and boy are they "mega-chapters"!) Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this one all the same. I love you guys, and happy reading!_

_YoureAnIllusion_

**Chapter 5: Reduced and Charming**

For the very first time in his college career, Arthur Pendragon was completely engaged in literature class. The session was about to end, yet he had not fallen asleep or sent any hand signals to Merlin. His unusual alertness was attributed to the fact that he had actually_ read_ the material Professor Darthy was lecturing on, and it surprised him to realize that literature actually wasn't so bad after all. After Arthur had spent two nights reading a now-worn copy of _Macbeth_, he had realized that he should have given the material a shot a lot earlier. He was even more surprised to realize that Shakespeare was just like Guinevere had said… and he was enjoying it.

"Yes Mr. Pendragon?" the startled professor addressed Arthur's elevated hand.

Rows of heads swiveled to necessary positions, just to confirm that the usually napping Arthur was actually participating. Arthur looked at the various students who gawked at him expectantly before he replied:

"Professor, I was just wondering if you too would consider Lady Macduff the most tragic character in the play? I mean, she was innocent, yet she and her family died a bloody death, whilst believing that her husband had abandoned her. However, Lady Macbeth was not nearly as innocent, and up until this point is not receiving the sort of punishment she deserves," Arthur said evenly.

Merlin gave his friend a strange look, as did everyone else in the classroom. Were they in some sort of "Twilight Zone"? Every one knew that Arthur hardly ever completed the required assignments, and when he decided to show up for class he was usually sleeping.

Darthy took a moment to collect his thoughts, resisting the urge to hold onto his podium for support. The Pendragon boy had actually contributed to the discussion… and intelligently so. He had finished grading Arthur's essay on _Macbeth_ the night before, and immediately thought the young man had cheated; the paper was too well constructed and knowledgeable for the under motivated and lazy Pendragon. But Darthy was beginning to reconsider, for the boy had obviously displayed that he had indeed read the material.

"A fine question, Mr. Pendragon,"

Vivian Remington turned to take a quick peek at Arthur in the back row, and give a flirty wink.

Darthy saw the swift exchange, but continued nonetheless. "Well, in fact I would have to conclude the same as well. For—" However, Darthy's explanation was cut short by the loud chime of the bell, signaling the end of the period.

The students immediately sprang up from their seats to exit the classroom, a sound hub emerging in mere moments.

"Wait, wait. I have your essays graded. Don't leave without them!" Darthy yelled, addressing the class.

Arthur lethargically got onto the line that was forming to receive the papers, when Morgana nudged him in the rib with her elbow.

"Nice show back there. I didn't know you read it," she said grinning, proud of her cousin.

Arthur simply shrugged. "Yeah. You know, it was the craziest thing: it was actually 'cause of Guinevere that I read the damn thing."

Morgana silently raised her eyebrows, wondering what that statement was supposed to mean.

"Ah, Mr. Pendragon," Darthy sighed with a smile on his lean face. "Well done sir, by far the best yet. Keep it up."

Arthur took the paper from the professor giving him a small smile, as he too looked down at the paper: B+.

"Wow, thank you…sir," Arthur barely got out as he rushed out of the classroom to go find Merlin in the school courtyard.

"Hey man!" Drake yelled across the courtyard, when he spotted Arthur exiting the school. He slung an arm around his friend once he caught up. "You wanna play some polo this afternoon? Roger, Alex and I are all heading up to the club."

Arthur shook his head; he wasn't in the mood today.

"Nah, thanks for inviting me though. Are you taking—"

Vivian hurriedly made her way over to Drake and Arthur, with the brightest smile on her face. She would have cornered Arthur before Drake had she not stopped to make sure that her hair and subtle makeup were immaculate; she was on a mission.

"Hey Viv," Drake said, giving her a boorish once-over.

"Drake, could you excuse us?" she requested ever so politely.

Drake looked at Arthur for confirmation, who gave him a small nod.

"I'll see you tomorrow Arthur." Drake departed, waving.

"When did you read _Macbeth_?" Vivian asked, taking Drakes former place next to Arthur.

"This weekend, it was okay actually," Arthur replied, fishing in his pockets for a smoke.

Vivian just nodded, finally cutting to the chase. "Arthur, we haven't gone out in a while, and I'm free tonight," she said sweetly, not one to beat around the bush.

Arthur cursed under his breath, as he lit the cigarette, resulting in Vivian's delicate coughing. He ignored her reaction to the smoke, and continued to enjoy his first cigarette in three days.

"Vivian," Arthur said, stopping under a tree. He watched a few students mill about, thinking of how he could reply to Vivian's proposal. "Me and you," he said, pointing. "We're not a thing. You're not my main girl, and you don't have my ring either."

"Oh c'mon Arthur," she insisted, moving in a little closer. Arthur could smell the scent of her peach shampoo from her perfectly curled golden hair. "Let's go out to the drive-in theatre, or catch dinner together. We always have fun with eachother, you know that…"

Arthur resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. How direct did he have to be for her to realize that he didn't want anything to do with her? Arthur now wished that he could take back the handful of dates he had with her, if only for his peace of mind. Vivian seemed to think that if she constantly pined after him, that he'd finally give her his ring. It wasn't going to happen, and Arthur had thought that Vivian had figured that out by now. _What will it take to convince her… and my father? They're both so persistent!_

"Vivian, you're just wasting your time with me," Arthur admitted truthfully. He didn't really consider himself a catch to anyone. Sure, he had the good looks, but he didn't understand why any girl would want him except for his loads of money. He knew that he could be rude and unpleasant, yet he knew there was a list of girls that were eagerly waiting to get a shot with him.

"Don't say that Arthur," she pouted.

_Oh no, is she about to cry? Oh, God. Please, no crying!_ Arthur looked at his wrist-watch. "Viv, I've gotta go," Arthur lied as he spotted Merlin, relieved that he had dodged a bullet yet again.

"Arthur!" she nearly yelled, stomping her foot against the grass in frustration as Arthur bolted in the opposite direction.

"Merlin, save me!" Arthur hissed as he grabbed his friend's collar, nearly bowling him over.

* * *

><p>Arthur trudged up the stairs to the front door of his home, nodding to the various servants in the yard who stopped their chores to greet him.<p>

"Stella?" he called out once he reached the empty foyer. He stopped one of the servants who was carrying a load of laundry. "Do you know where Stella is?"

"Good afternoon sir. Ms. Stella is in your father's office, I believe."

Arthur's knees nearly buckled from the wave of nausea that swept over him. If Stella was in his father's office, it could only mean something bad was happening. The two other occasions that Stella had been summoned to Uther Pendragon's office, was when Uther was reprimanding her for being too familiar with his son.

Arthur had only been a boy then, yet he knew that his father had wanted to fire Stella. When his father had actually proposed the notion to Arthur when he had lost his temper, the boy threw a large fit. In fact, it was Stella who was the one who finally coaxed the young Pendragon out of his barricaded room. After that, Uther decided not dismiss the then nanny, fearing that his only child would harm himself out of grief.

"How long has she been in there?" Arthur asked, snapping back into the present.

The servant noted Arthur's concern, and she decided not to perpetuate it. "Oh, not long at all sir. Perhaps five minutes."

Arthur hurried to his father's office, not bothering to thank the servant. In no time flat he reached the office: a grand room, which was at the end of the first floor, with an amazing view of the back garden, and part of the stables. Filled with large windows, and enough books to fill a library, in Arthur's childhood, it was a place of fantasy.

Slowly, as not to create unnecessary noise, Arthur cupped his ear to the door to hear if there was any arguing. However, he couldn't make out a single word through the thick oak doors that seemed to be locked.

Suddenly, he was jarred from his position as the door opened to reveal Stella, who stood with a hand on her hip. Regaining his balance, Arthur could see his father standing from behind his desk to see what the commotion was on the other side of the door.

"Arthur, were you eavesdropping?" Stella whispered harshly, chiding.

Arthur could only produce a bashful smile as the woman made her way past him, shaking her head in reproach. Arthur looked into his father's large office through the door Stella had left open.

"Arthur? Come in, son."

Arthur closed the doors behind him, immediately asking the only question on his mind. "Why was Stella in here?" Arthur asked, cutting the pleasantries.

Uther ignored his question for a few moments, as he sat in his large office chair. "Not to worry, we had no quarrel."

Arthur sighed in relief, not realizing that he was actually holding his breath.

"I had wanted to see you actually. Sit down, Arthur." Uther said, looking down at a stack of papers. "How's school going, son?" He continued without looking up.

"Very well. I made a fine mark on my literature paper today."

"Really?" Uther said a little too excitedly, finally looking at his son.

Arthur smiled with pride. "Yeah. The professor was surprised as well."

Uther let out a hearty laugh, the scar on his forehead from a childhood car accident creasing with his newly forming wrinkles. "Very good then."

"So, why'd you want to talk to me?"

"I can't have a conversation with my only child?"

"It's rare," Arthur replied rather plainly.

Uther nodded, no stranger to Arthur's frankness. A dense awkward silence hung over the vast office space.

"Are we done here, then?" Arthur asked rather curtly as he looked around the room.

A sad expression swept Uther's aging features, but was gone in a moment. He nodded in response to his son's question.

As Arthur got up however, Uther recalled an important note. "Wash up for dinner tonight. The Remington's are dining with us. No blue jeans and sneakers, you hear?"

Arthur's shoulders noticeably slumped. "Why, father?" he asked, trying his best not to whine.

"Why not? They're family friends, Arthur."

"No, they're _your_ friends."

"Arthur, I'll hear no more of it. Olaf and Dorothy are your godparents," Uther said sternly. "And Vivian is a beautiful and pleasant young woman."

"No she's not," Arthur scoffed. Well… she _was _beautiful.

"Nonsense, Arthur," Uther shook his head. "You two have a future together. You should get to know her. Your feelings will change, I assure you."

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed. What was his father implying? "And what if they don't?"

Uther dropped the pen that was in his hands, looking down at his desk as he tried to think of his next words. This was a delicate matter, one he had been meaning to address for some time. He hadn't anticipated that the issue would arise this way, so unexpectedly, but he would make the best of the situation.

"Then you'll make them. You'll make your feelings change, Arthur."

"What?" Arthur asked, blinking rapidly.

"Arthur, you're not a child anymore!" Uther said, finally losing his patience as he bolted upright from his seat. "It's high time that you start thinking of your future, son!"

"I do. Dragon Real Estate _is _my future; it's one of the few things that matters to me."

"Don't be so naïve, Arthur!" Uther scoffed as he turned to stare out one of the many office windows. "Have I taught you nothing?" Uther said more to himself. "You can have everything I have, and trust me, one day you will. But how will you fit into society without a woman like Vivian at your side? She's from a good family, a pleasant girl and hostess. It's time you start thinking of your reputation. It's time you start putting your ducks in a row… and it starts with her."

Arthur couldn't believe his ears. It sounded as if his father had planned his entire life out for him. The way he was talking about Vivian made her seem like a well-placed card in a poker game, and it disgusted him. Arthur shook his head as he made his way to the door, not wanting to continue the conversation.

"You're crazy. I can't stand Vivian, there's no future with her. I can't believe you're saying all of this… but I don't care."

Uther turned to his son in fury, his booming voice stopping his child in his tracks. "Arthur! Don't you dare turn your back on me!"

Arthur obeyed, facing his father.

"Now you listen up, and you listen good." Uther ran a quick hand over his face. "You _will _learn to stand her. You have a duty to this family, to carry on our business and our good name. Stop being so selfish for once, Arthur! You're not a child, it's not just about feelings or wants anymore; there are sacrifices to be made. The things that last are the respect you gain and the legacy you leave Fleeting emotions don't matter in the long run… I would know." Uther turned away once again on the last statement.

Arthur's eyes narrowed in fury and confusion. He looked at his father, opening his mouth about to voice an angry response when he decided against it. Silently, he left his father's office, never wanting a cigarette so much in his life.

* * *

><p>Gwen had been cleaning in Morgana's bathroom and carrying on a conversation with her for the past fifteen minutes, chatting about various topics.<p>

"Oh!" Morgana exclaimed sitting on the bathtub, with nail-filer in hand. "Arthur did really well on his Macbeth paper…" she changed topics, leaving the statement open up to Gwen's interpretation. Not to her surprise, Gwen displayed a large smile as she sat on her knees.

"Really? Good for him," she said, wiping her forehead.

Morgana could tell that Gwen wasn't going to talk further about it, so she goaded. "He said that it was 'cause of you…"

"Really? Oh, well that's not true."

"Why'd he say it then?"

"I'm not sure, I didn't really help him."

"Aha! So you did a little? C'mon Gwen, you don't have to be so humble _all_ the time!"

Gwen stood, putting her tired hands on her hips, "I suppose I did… a little. But why does it matter? I read some of his paper, and he asked me for help, that's all."

Morgana looked at her blankly. "Arthur… asked you," she said, pointing at Gwen, "for help!"

"Sort of," Gwen replied, remembering the strange encounter. Morgana became excited over the smallest things, and Gwen believed she was doing the same now.

"See Gwen, I knew he'd come around. No one could help but love you." Morgana greatly admired the maid. She was always so happy, gentle, and kind, not to mention the wit she never really got to display because of her position.

"I told him that I taught an English class, but only to second graders. He didn't believe I had really read the play at first. Then he finally asked for some assistance. He was quite nice, actually."

"See, he's not the arrogant, spoiled Arthur all the time," Morgan emphasized, advocating for her cousin.

"I'm not sure. That was Saturday, and its Thursday now. He's probably back to normal."

"No, I think he's in a good mood because of that paper."

Gwen picked up her bucket, ready to complete the rest of her chores. She couldn't help but release a little snort as she said, "We'll see."

Exiting Morgana's room with a basket full of laundry, Gwen made her way down the hall to Arthur's room. Usually he was out on the tennis court at this time, or up at the country club playing polo with his friends. However, his door was closed, signaling that he must be inside. Gwen sighed as she knocked on the door for confirmation.

"Come in," Arthur yelled from the other side.

Gwen let out a small groan, for she wished that he had been out playing tennis or polo. Slowly, she opened the door, only to find Arthur hunched over his desk.

He looked over his shoulder at Gwen. "Ah, good afternoon Guinevere."

"Afternoon sir," she said, stepping in. "Just came to pick up your laundry."

Gwen wondered why he was calling her by her full name, but unlike everyone else who butchered her name, it sounded quite lovely coming from him. As she walked over to his hamper, she saw him reach for the cigarette box which lay at the corner of his desk.

"Ah, damn it!" he growled, hurling the empty box off his desk.

"Sir," Gwen gently interrupted his swift burst of rage.

Arthur quickly turned around.

Gwen walked towards him, pulling out a box of cigarettes from her apron's pocket. "I saw the box was empty earlier." She handed him the carton. "I meant to replace it earlier."

Arthur mutely looked down at the full pack, relieved. "Thank you," he finally said as he took them gratefully.

"Oh," he started, debating whether or not he should thank Gwen for the advice she had given him, which spurred him on to read _Macbeth_. "Guinevere," he said turning around in his chair, "I would like to thank you. I know you and I haven't quite seen eye to eye, but you really helped me through with the whole _Macbeth_ thing. I did well on it, and I have to admit… it's because of you."

Gwen stood paralyzed, unsure of how to respond to his confession…and gratitude. Arthur Pendragon was beginning to surprise her, for the words actually sounded quite genuine. She wasn't very used to him being kind to her. She wasn't complaining about it though; he had the potential to be quite pleasant.

"I wasn't the one who did anything really, but I'm happy that you made a good mark on it. You deserved it; you must have spent a lot of time on that one assignment."

"Yeah, I did. It was worth it though."

Gwen smiled, maybe he wasn't as lazy as she had previously thought… maybe not as rude either. Gwen finally added his dirty clothes to the laundry basket, remembering that she had to empty the ashtray he had outside as well.

Silently, she moved past Arthur's desk to slide open the glass door that separated Arthur's balcony from his room, stepping out into the brisk afternoon. Reaching for the ashtray, she paused to look down at the people working in the stables.

"Wow," she silently exclaimed as she saw one of the servants walk out with a beautiful white horse.

Arthur still sat inside however, lighting a cigarette as he quietly watched the maid walk outside. He could see her looking over the balcony, but he wasn't quite sure what it was exactly that had caught her attention so. He also took the moment to appreciate her figure from where he sat. Unlike much of the staff, she wasn't heavy set, but she was short. His sight slowly drifted downward, before he mentally chided himself for his evaluation.

Throwing the lighter back on the desk, he inhaled a generous portion as he stood. He walked out to the balcony, closing the glass door behind him.

Gwen heard him come out onto the balcony, and immediately picked up the ashtray she was supposed to be emptying. "I'll be out of your way in a moment sir," she apologized.

Arthur leaned on the balcony next to her, cigarette dangling from his lips. "Don't leave on my account."

Gwen held onto the tray, as she stood over the balcony once again. She looked quickly at Arthur, before looking back at the stables.

"The horse," he said, propping an elbow on the stone ledge, "her name is Luna. She's Morgana's."

"She's beautiful. I've never actually seen a horse, in real life. I've seen pictures, but never in person."

"Really?" Arthur asked, surprised, exhaling a huff of smoke. "I love riding. My mother did too."

Gwen stole a quick glance at his profile, noting his proximity. He was acting extremely peculiar; actually treating her as a human being, and they were actually having a pleasant conversation, on his balcony of all places.

"My mother loved animals, before she died we always had pets…we can't afford them now though," Gwen remembered a little sadly.

Arthur blinked at her statement; he hadn't known that her mother had passed away too."My favorite horse," he continued, " his name is Autumn. Fastest horse in that stable."

The cigarette smoke irritated Gwen's throat, resulting in a series of coughs escaping from her lungs.

"Sorry," Arthur apologized, promptly putting the new cigarette out.

"Oh, it's fine."

"I take it no one in your family smokes then?"

"Well, it's only my brother and father, and cigarettes are expensive!" she replied laughing.

Arthur couldn't imagine being so poor that you couldn't buy so something like cigarettes. He wondered how Gwen's mother had died, for it was the second time in one conversation that her mother had come up. He didn't want to ask however. It'd be too rude. The death of her mother probably explained why she was so independent… she was just full of surprises.

He looked at her looking out on the grounds, her eyes so full of awe. Her innocence in front of the landscape was strange to him, for he had experienced the Pendragon Estate everyday of his life, but had never been as impressed with it as she was.

And then the reality of the moment hit him he was alone, with this strange and attractive colored woman, who he had put a cigarette out for. He didn't give up his cigarettes for anyone… and that realization startled him. _What the hell are you doing Arthur! Why are you talking to her like this?_ His thoughts scolded him yet again. He seemed to be correcting himself a lot around her.

"Your family sounds a lot like mine."

Gwen released a small giggle. "Sir, not at all."

Arthur was amused with her response.

"My family is so poor, I bet my father's monthly salary isn't even half of your allowance. My home, it's the size of your bed room."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "You're exaggerating!"

"No sir. You're so lucky, all of this," she said looking around. She fixed her gaze on the fountain in the driveway that lay in the distance. "But I wouldn't give up my family for all the money in the world. You can't replace love like that, and I do love them. You know?" she said, turning to him.

Arthur bit his lip, and mutely nodded. Gwen had occasions where she would burst out with phrases that to him were almost lyrical. Like he had said in the park to Merlin: she was strange. However… he no longer thought so in a negative way. She was quite lovely, no matter her skin or status. He concluded that he actually did like her, he only wish that he hadn't been so awful to him before.

Three weeks ago he was disgusted by her, and last week he barely tolerated her. But now… he liked her.

"What does your father do then?" Arthur decided that he should embrace the opportunity he had to get to know her a little bit more.

Gwen turned to him, too resting on her elbow. "He's a mechanic, his name is Tom. My older brother Elliot is a mechanic as well, but he's just a novice."

"Oh, a mechanic."

"Yeah."

"And you… is this all you want to do? Be a maid? You're obviously educated… you _do _read Shakespeare!" Arthur laughed, self consciously taking a step closer to her. He swore that he could smell lavender in her hair; and it was lovely.

"I hope to become a nurse one day. But who knows, I might be mopping floors and changing sheets for the rest of my life."

"Nah, I don't think so. But if you want to become a nurse, what are you doing here then? You're just wasting time."

"It comes down to what everything does: money. I'm just saving up for school, I don't plan on working here forever."

Arthur silently looked at her, in an unnerving gaze.

Gwen looked down at her small wristwatch. "I must go now, I'm actually running a little late."

Arthur stood up straight. "Why?" He asked more eagerly than he had intended…he wanted her to stay.

"We're having guest over for dinner, I must go help prepare. Good afternoon." As Gwen went to the door, resting a hand on the handle, before she added: "it was nice talking to you."

"No, my pleasure."

Gwen gave Arthur a quick smile as she walked back into the house.

Once she was out of sight, Arthur turned around, placing both elbows on the ledge. He didn't like to admit when he was wrong, but he had to in Gwen's case. Yes she was strange… but in a way that excited him, and made Arthur want to get to know her even better. She was refreshing when compared to the plastic and proper girls who pined after him, or the subservient coloreds who served him. Her species of female was unknown to him… but he planned on becoming an expert.

* * *

><p>Arthur sat watching television with Morgana as he heard the chime of the doorbell. Five-thirty on the dot; Arthur cursed the consistent punctuality of the Remington family. The pair of cousins looked at each other simultaneously.<p>

"Ready, Arthur?" Morgana said, standing, and she straightened her deep blue pencil dress.

"After you, of course," he said, turning off the television.

Morgana turned to fix Arthur's striped bowtie. "You know how Uncle gets when we have company."

"Thank you, Morgana. Imagine what a mess I'd be without you?"

His cousin just smiled as she proceeded in fixing his attire.

"Of course I know how father is with guests, the Remingtons especially."

Morgana nodded.

"You look beautiful this evening," Arthur added.

"You're looking sharp yourself." She gave him a wink.

Uther appeared in the doorway out of breath, dressed to the nines as well. "What are you two still doing in here, with the Remingtons at the door?"

"We were just leaving Uncle, right Arthur?"

Arthur didn't reply, still cross with his father. Uther made way to the door, with Arthur and Morgana in tow. A maid opened the door to reveal the Pendragons' awaited and regular guests.

Dorothy Remington dismissed the servant, as she spotted Uther make his way through the foyer to the front door to greet his guests.

"Dorothy, looking lovely as usual," Uther said, giving the woman a hug.

"You look to be in good health Uther," Dorothy said, moving in to greet the Pendragon children.

Uther shook hands with Olaf, and placed a kiss on Vivian's hand.

"Vivian, you get even more beautiful with every passing day."

Arthur stood in the background as he rolled his eyes.

"Why thank you Mr. Pendragon."

Vivian moved in greet Morgana with a hug, then turned to Arthur, expecting him to kiss her hand as well.

"Good evening, Vivian," Arthur said, as politely as he could, trying not to clench his jaw too tightly. Uther stood behind Vivian, and gave Arthur a look which told Arthur he should comply with the customs. Quickly, he took Vivian's hand, finally placing a small kiss.

"Shall we eat? Our staff has the best prepared." Uther asked with a smile, always his happiest with guests.

"Why, I am famished!" Dorothy replied.

The Pendragons and Remingtons made their way to the dining table, all anticipating a tasty meal.

At dinner, Arthur appeared to be quite normal. He engaged the Remingtons in various discussions, playing the familiar role of a host quite well. However, he could not help looking at his watch on several occasions, wondering when the dinner would finally be over.

As a result, he was quite relieved when Uther graciously called the meal to a close an hour and a half later. Arthur, content with the three course meal and desert, just wanted to go into his room, and listen to the radio. He rose to assist Vivian up from her chair when Uther said:

"Arthur, why don't you show Vivian our new piece of art in the sun room?"

Arthur resisted narrowing his eyes at his father's newest trick to get him alone with Vivian. Yet he evenly replied and affirmative.

Vivian followed Arthur out of the dining room, chatting on about some matter Arthur didn't care about, her voice irritating him more than usual. Arthur led her to the sunroom, when they past Gwen, who was leaving to go home with Alice.

Arthur stopped short, startling Vivian. "Good night Guinevere. Have a nice evening."

Vivian gave Arthur a strange look as the maid replied, "You as well, sir."

Vivian watched with confusion as Arthur's gaze followed the maid all the way to the end of the hall. "Arthur!" she nearly screeched as she linked her arm in his.

Arthur wasn't aware that he was actually staring at Gwen until Vivian's arm had assaulted his.

_Title Inspired by: "Reduced and Charming" by Open the Skies_


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello everyone! I am very happy to present to you 'Chapter 6' of My Love, My Secret (the longest chapter yet). I can not even begin to express how excited I am for this chapter, for it was the most fun to write (and took the longest to do so). I must warn you that because of the swearing that follows, I had to change the stories ration to 'Mature'. Just warning those of you who may be sensitive to that sort of thing. Now that I'm done rambling, I hope you all enjoy, and I greatly anticipate the response to this chapter. _

_YoureAnIllusion_

**Chapter 6: It's Myself vs. Being a Man**

The Gibson family walked into their small home on a hot Sunday afternoon, still chatting about another emphatic and exhilarating sermon delivered by Pastor Barr. Elliot and Tom hastily made their way to the living room to relax and listen to the radio, while Gwen went towards her bedroom.

"I'll go and get dinner started, Daddy," Gwen yelled over her shoulder.

"Oh, Gwen!" Elliot called out, jumping from the couch. "This came for you," he said, placing a letter in his sister's hands.

"Who's it from?" she asked before looking at the return address. Not waiting for her brother's response, Gwen read the name of the sender in the top left corner, and couldn't help the large smile that took over her face as she read: "Lorenzo Camello". She ran a hand over his neat cursive, before her demeanor quickly shifted.

"Elliot, why am I just getting this now?"

"I was out with friends by the time you got home last night. I forgot to give it to you. Sorry."

Gwen didn't waste another moment questioning her brother. Running into her room, she kicked her door shut before jumping on her bed. Lying on her stomach, she took a deep breath as she began to open the small beige envelope. The anticipation of Lorenzo's words became more unbearable by the moment, in her excitement she wanted to rip the envelope to shreds, but restrained herself. She took a deep breath before reading.

_Gwen,_

_I hope this letter has found you and your family in good health. Chile is wonderful; it feels so good to spend time with my family, who I've missed so much. I look at the mountains which surround our home, and I feel as if there isn't a care in the world._

_Uncle Hector is doing much better, but not yet fully recovered. The doctor's say that his drastic recovery is no short of a miracle, and I must agree. Aunt Maria and her children are holding in there, happy to have the support of their relatives. It looks like we may be returning earlier than we had expected, due to Uncle's dramatic turn in health._

Gwen swallowed a squeal which nearly escaped her lips. She continued:

_I praise God that my cousin Lupe is a pilot, or else we would never have been able to afford our travels. I hope to be back in a couple weeks, but it's not exactly on my watch. I have thought of you often, and can't wait to see you again. I hope that Cid is treating you well, and tell everyone at the diner that I said "hello". Please continue to pray for Uncle Hector and his family (though I think the Virgin Mother is taking special care of him)._

_Hope to be home soon,_

_Lorenzo Andrés Miguel Camello_

Gwen giggled at Lorenzo's full name as she rolled onto her back, holding the letter close to her chest. She reflected on just how much had changed in the two weeks Lorenzo had been away. However, those thoughts were soon pushed out as she remembered the prospect of Lorenzo returning in a couple of weeks. She had missed talking to him, always eager to listen and help her; she thought of him often as well. Now she could only pray that the good health of Lorenzo's uncle would continue so he could come home sooner than later.

Gwen's dreamy reflections on the sweet and romantic Lorenzo were interrupted by a quick knocking on her bedroom door.

"Come in," Gwen said as she quickly shoved the letter under her pillow.

"Hey baby," Tom said, stepping in. He paused for a moment. "Why are you still in your good clothes?"

"Just resting a minute, Daddy," she replied, sitting up and subtly pushing the pillow back farther.

"Oh, sorry to bother you. Could you run a quick errand for me, sweet pea?"

"Sure."

"Great. Could you go down to the pharmacy on Wade Street, and pick up my prescription?" Tom rubbed his sore back. "I'm really aching today."

"Yeah, let me change, and put the chicken in the oven for dinner."

Tom gave his daughter a quick smile before he exited her small bedroom.

As soon as Tom left her room, Gwen walked to her small wooden dresser with the letter and envelope in hand. With great care she placed the letter back inside the envelope, tucking it away underneath some clothing.

* * *

><p>Arthur and his gang had just finished eating a large lunch at Cid's Diner, and were now making their way to the repair shop to pick up Roger's wristwatch. The four boys walked in a line that nearly took up the entire sidewalk; however there was no one around to object, for the area was just about deserted. Around this time, most people were in their homes preparing or enjoying Sunday dinners with their families.<p>

Roger lit his second cigarette as he continued taunting Alex. "Julie Richards? C'mon, that's slumming. I can't believe that's all you've been getting lately," he nearly cackled.

"Shut up Roger! Remember that broad, Martha, you hooked up with a couple of weeks ago?"

Drake snickered. "Hey, I don't think he wants to be reminded!"

"Screw you guys!" Roger said, spitting on the hot pavement.

Arthur listened to the banter of his friends, chuckling as they recounted their recent "lady friends".

Drake nudged Arthur in the rib. "You've been awfully quiet, Arthur. Score with Vivian lately?" Roger and Alex grew silent, anxious for Arthur's reply.

"Nah," Arthur shrugged nonchalantly.

"And why the hell not?"

"She annoys me to no end, I can't stand her anymore. What I'd give to take back those…occasions." Even uttering her name left a sour taste in his mouth.

His three buddies looked at him like he was a mad man; they would do just about anything to go on a single date with the notoriously picky Vivian. There was no shortage of men pining after the wealthy Remington girl, who shot down every one of them. Arthur knew that many men would consider themselves lucky to "earn" a shot with Vivian... but he considered himself cursed.

"Arthur, who gives a shit if she 'annoys' you?" Roger asked. "She's hot, that cancels out just about everything else."

Drake and Alex nodded, voicing various affirmatives.

"No." Arthur shook his head vehemently. "Her seemingly sweet voice is like nails running down a chalk board. Her outwardly soft touch is like scalding acid… y'all can have her."

Drake let out a puff of smoke. "What, are you a poet now?"

The three friends continued to laugh at Arthur's remark; if only they were so lucky as to have Vivian! They soon switched topics, gossiping about the latest news at the country club. On joining the conversation, Arthur decided to join his friends in a smoke as well. Digging into his pockets, he swallowed an explicative as he found them empty… yet again. He mentally backtracked, and concluded that the carton must have fallen en route from the diner.

"Hey guys, I think I dropped my cigs a few corners back, I'll catch up."

The three boys waved Arthur off as he retraced his steps rather quickly. He found the carton in no time, letting out a sigh of relief once he spotted the nearly full pack in the middle of the sidewalk. As he bent down, he heard a voice call his name from the doorway of a clothing store.

"Arthur?"

He stood up, finding his friend Leon, a buddy whom he played polo with on a regular basis.

"Leon, how you doin'?" Arthur smiled as the friends exchanged a brief pat on the back.

"Ah, nothing much. Just picking up some things for my mom," he said, lifting up the pair of paper bags he clutched. "I haven't seen you at the fields lately."

Arthur paused, looking down the corner, wondering how far his friends would get if he continued his conversation with Leon. He finally concluded that he'd catch up with them eventually.

* * *

><p>Gwen quickly walked to the back of the pharmacy, stopping at the large counter where the prescriptions were dispensed. She couldn't see any of the pharmacists, and she really was in a hurry. Impatiently, she tapped the small golden bell which lay to her right, hoping someone would come to assist her soon.<p>

"Coming!" An out of breath Mrs. Mealy appeared a few moments later, grabbing the counter for support. Her face lit up when she saw her favorite customer. "Ah, Gwen. How are you doing, sweetheart?"

"Just fine, in a bit of a rush though. I'm here for Daddy's prescription."

Mrs. Mealy disappeared, whistling a tune. She came back with a small paper bag, containing Tom's pills. "Is that it, dear?"

"Yes ma'am," Gwen said, handing the woman the exact cash as she took the prescription.

"How's your father doing? Not workin' too hard is he?"

"I think it's impossible for him to do so," Gwen quipped, laughing. "But he's doing well, just the occasional back pain."

"I heard you got a job down at the Pendragon mansion?" Mrs. Mealy continued, ignoring the fact that Gwen had mentioned she was in a hurry.

"Yes ma'am I did. I really enjoy it compared to waitressing."

"That's good, you're such a hard worker, compared to the laziness I see in young people today," Mrs. Mealy remarked clicking her tongue.

"I try, ma'am."

"And may I add; you're looking very lovely today, miss Gwen," the older woman winked.

Gwen looked down at her favorite dress. A burnt orange piece, that drew in at her waist, before tapering, and ending at her knees. In a hurry to reach the pharmacy before the early Sunday closing hours, she had just thrown her hair up, but thanked the kind woman for her compliment nonetheless.

Walking out of the small and cold pharmacy, Gwen smiled as the sun's rays greeted her, accompanied with a gentle breeze. The bus stop was a couple of blocks away, but Gwen didn't mind the walk in light of the beautiful weather. Placing her father's medication in her bag, she checked her purse to make sure that she would have enough money for the bus fare to take her home.

Preoccupied with the contents of her full handbag, Gwen didn't notice the small bump on the sidewalk. Grossly miscalculating her next step, she tripped over the pesky bump, her handbag flying from her arms. Luckily, she fell rather lightly, but all of the contents in her bag spilled out onto the empty sidewalk. Gwen resisted voicing a strain of expletives as she bent down to pick up the numerous contents which now lay in the street.

She heard a group approaching her, and tried not to hinder their movement as she moved to the side. She was forced to look up however when a cigarette butt came crashing down mere inches from her hands, crushed into the pavement by a large brown dress shoe. Looking up, Gwen's eyes widened to the size of saucers, as she recognized the stranger in an instant. _Oh no, please no…._

"Hey, look, Alex," Roger turned, yelling back to his friends. "It's that bitch waitress who spilled that cola on Arthur… where is he anyway?"

"Yeah, I remember the broad," Alex replied, looking down at the spilled contents that littered the street.

Drake walked over to a small book that lay a few feet from Gwen: Fahrenheit 451. He picked it up, as he leafed through it quickly.

"Roger, Alex; you knew coloreds read?"

Gwen jumped up, afraid that he would damage the book. She had bought it with her own money, and it was a rarity when she had the extra money to buy things for recreation.

"Stop it!" she exclaimed, lunging for the book which Drake held out, teasing her. He moved out of her reach swiftly; as Gwen barely recovered her footing. He knocked his head back, letting out a roaring laugh, he tossed the book to Alex.

Gwen didn't want to jump towards Alex as well, for she knew the boys would just keep tossing it to each other. _They will not reduce me to "monkey in the middle"!_ Gwen stood rooted in horror as she watched Alex rip off the cover, and proceed in ripping out the pages as well. Drake and Roger watched, laughing hysterically.

"What you gonna do about it, bitch?" Alex asked smiling; it was no fun unless he provoked a reaction.

Gwen wanted to cry, as she watched the destruction of her book. Why where these men humiliating her yet again? Hadn't they had their fill at the diner? What had she ever done to them?

Roger picked up the small purse that lay near his feet, as he watched Gwen's chest moving rapidly, in a vain attempt to control her emotions. He clutched onto the bag tighter, as Gwen moved toward him.

Roger took in account her figure in her cheap dress, and briefly gave her a thorough once over. "You're not that disgusting for a colored," he said, licking his lips with a smile. The husky tone made Gwen's stomach knot.

"Give it back to me, you filthy pig!" Gwen yelled as she went to reach for her bag; it was more important than her book.

"Whoa, we've got a feisty one fellas!" Roger piped up, turning to his snickering friends. He spun to avoid Gwen's reach. "Yeah, you ain't that bad at all," he added gutturally, moving a hand to her hip.

Finally at her breaking point, Gwen spat in his face as she grabbed her bag, with unexpected ferocity. The feel of his thick hand on her hip revolted her, and she would not tolerate the humiliation for another moment…no matter the consequences.

Drake and Alex took large steps back, simultaneously sucking in a large breath.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Roger roared, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve. He took hold of Gwen's small wrist with such momentum and force, that she fell to her knees in pain.

She dared to look him in his eye, as she bit her lip to suspend the hot tears which threatened to burn her cheeks. She looked around to see if anyone was nearby, but the streets were completely empty; not even the engine of a car could be heard in the distance.

"You nasty piece of shit," he said, spitting next to her.

"Go to hell!" Gwen said with much more confidence and control than she felt.

Roger raised his hand to smack the colored across her face, and back into her place, when a great force toppled his body against the hot pavement.

* * *

><p>Arthur had finished his conversation with Leon, happy that he had the opportunity to catch up with his polo mate. Saying good-bye to his friend, Arthur finally lit his first cigarette of the day, when he took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the weather. He figured that his friends were already in the repair shop by now, so he took his time taking the necessary turns to get there.<p>

He reached the corner before the shop, when he heard the cackling of his friends. Arthur smiled and shook his head as his imagination drifted to the possible topics they could be discussing now. However, it was when he heard the screaming of a woman that he became alarmed.

Jogging to turn the corner, Arthur found his friends; but he found Gwen too. On the sidewalk, various items were strewn about, with Drake and Alex off to the side their arms crossed... sitting back like they were watching a show. Next, Arthur's vision locked onto Roger, and the death grip he had Gwen trapped in. Arthur's legs were glued to the pavement, his mind quickly analyzing the situation. Roger was a big guy, and compared to Gwen's small stature, he may as well have been Goliath. The wrathful combination of autopilot and rage took over Arthur's body, as he dropped his cigarette, charging at Roger with all the might he could muster.

Before he knew it, Arthur was on top of Roger, both sprawled on the hot pavement. He could hear Gwen's shrieks mingle with Alex and Drake's shouts.

Gwen scrambled away from the two men who lay on top of one another, clutching her wrist, thankful that she was free from Roger's painful grip. Alex and Drake got up with a start, wondering when Arthur had found them, and why he had tackled Roger.

Roger pushed Arthur off of him, as they both shot up into standing position.

"What the hell, man!" he yelled, shoving Arthur in the chest, sending him back a few paces.

Arthur pushed him back even harder, still furious as he yelled, "Were you about to hit a woman?"

"She spat at me, I needed to teach her a lesson!" Roger hissed as he looked at Gwen, who watched the encounter wide-eyed.

Arthur's eyes narrowed; what had he walked into? "Don't look at her, you're dealing with me!"

Roger spat out some blood which salted his mouth. His head began to ache from the sudden impact it had endured. "Are you crazy! What do you care? She's just a nigger bitch. Hell, you'd think—"

Roger didn't have the time to finish his insulting tirade on Gwen, for Arthur's right fist collided with his jaw, a cracking sound resulting before the two ended up on top of each other once again. Arthur was able to get a few punches into Roger's ribs before he was pulled off, kicking, by two strangers.

Once Drake and Alex saw Arthur was restrained, they picked up the now bloodied Roger from the sidewalk, looking at Arthur in fear and confusion.

Ned, the owner of the watch repair shop, and his son, had heard the commotion from their store, when they came out to see the fight.

"Arthur! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Roger hardly got out, fluid over taking his throat before he spat out even more blood.

Arthur looked back at Gwen, who stood frozen in fear. Was she afraid of him?

"You're a fucking prick!" Arthur finally responded.

"Fuck you, man!"

Arthur tried to get a running start at Roger again, when Ned and his son tightened their grip on him, yanking him back with full force.

"Hell, Arthur, calm down!" Drake yelled finally regaining his voice.

"You all make me sick!" Arthur spat. "Get off of me!" he yelled at Ned and his son, who immediately backed away with their hands up; Arthur was as hot as a firecracker.

Arthur took another look at Gwen, who had picked up her bag, still looking frightened.

Ned addressed the colored girl he hadn't noticed until that moment. "What are you doing here young lady?"

"They were attacking her!" Arthur yelled, before Gwen could respond.

"Arthur, stop being irrational! We're your friends!"

"Get gone, girl!" Ned yelled at the mute colored. She was obviously the starting point of this conflict, and he didn't want her prolonging it.

Gwen stayed in her place, still shocked by everything that had unfolded; Ned's words did not register.

"Are you deaf, girl? I said get gone!"

Without further encouragement, Gwen gave Arthur one last look of gratitude before she fled. Arthur watched her scurry away, "Guinevere!" he called. She ignored his call, and his gaze fell on the ripped pages of what must have been her book, and his anger boiled up once again.

"You know her?" Alex asked.

Arthur turned to Roger and pointed a finger at the young man who was hunched over in pain. Ned quickly stood in front of Arthur, pushing his finger away.

"You get going too, before I wise up and phone the police."

"If the cops need to be called, it's on them," Arthur said pointing once again. His statement resulted in three dirty looks from the guys who he once considered to be his friends.

Ned brought his voice down to a quiet hush, addressing Arthur solely. "No need to be getting the police involved because of… her. You hear? Now I know you're heated, and I don't know what y'all have going on with that girl, but don't let some colored land you cooling off in a cell for the night, you understand?" The older gentleman finished, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur's vision clouded with anger as he violently shook off Ned's hand, and made his way to go find Gwen.

"Guinevere?" He called out, running up and down various avenues even when it became evident that she was long gone. Arthur wanted to see if she was all right; he could only imagine how bruised her wrist must have been from Rogers grip.

After turning a few corners, and calling for her more than several times, he finally gave up. Trudging to his car, he ultimately felt defeated. He rested an arm on the roof of his convertible, and laid his head on top, just a keg of confusion and various other emotions. With his head resting on the car, Arthur missed Gwen's gaze follow him from her standing position on the public bus.

* * *

><p>Elliot had been pacing the kitchen floor for the past five minutes, as his father and sister sat at the kitchen table, both in silence. Gwen had returned from what should have been a quick stop at the pharmacy, bruised and scraped. Tom and Elliot had nearly jumped over the couch when they saw the state of her. She had recounted her run in with the three boys to them, trying her best not to cry. When she had finished, she looked at her father who had remained silent for most of the recollection.<p>

"Who the hell do those white rich kids think they are?" Elliot continued his tirade, wearing a hole into the kitchen floor.

"You watch yourself Elliot Marcus!" Tom finally snapped at his son's speech. "Your mother wouldn't tolerate that language, and neither will I."

"Dad, did you even_ look_ at Gwen? You can see the imprint of a hand wrapped around her wrist. The scrapes on her knees aren't bad, but they're still there! Give me a shot at them, and we'll see what they look like!"

"Elliot, please!" Gwen sniffled. "I'm fine, I promise. I'm just making a big deal out of nothing."

"No, Gwen!" Elliot yelled, slamming a fist on the small wooden table. "Gwen, for once, you don't have to be strong for us. Let us be there for you. You know what… I'm going down to the police station right now!"

"Boy, sit down," Tom commanded his child.

"Dad, I'm not gonna let them treat my sister like that in public, and get away with it! Why are you not furious? They _attacked_ your daughter!"

"Elliot Marcus! Boy, you better sit your narrow behind down this instant, or so help me!" Tom yelled, the aggression in his usually soft voice startling Gwen.

Elliot took a deep breath as he pulled a chair out.

"Ain't no one going down to that police station."

"But—"

"Hush. Think things through for once! What will you accomplish by going down there, huh? Those four rich boys? No punishment or justice will come to them; we all know it to be true." Tom sucked his teeth. "Not a darn thing is going to be resolved by you bustin' into that station, huffing and puffing."

Elliot crossed his arms.

"Now, our family has been through worse. We'll keep our chin up, pride intact; Gwen is a strong young woman. We're not gonna let some four crackers reduce this family to disparity. I do declare… not after everything we've been through," Tom affirmed, his voice cracking under the intensity.

"Daddy, it was only three of them."

"Does it make a difference, Gwen?"

"It's only because of Arthur that you don't see a hand print across my face as well. That brute was fixing to smack me, but Arthur didn't give him the chance. He really saved me, who knows what would have happened if he didn't show up?"

"Praise the living God that he did." Tom said sullenly, the thought that his daughter wasn't even safe in broad daylight terrified him. "He didn't have to do that, and it took a lot of guts for him to take on his friends like that."

Gwen wiped her eyes. "Yeah, I like him."

Tom and Elliot snapped their gaze to Gwen. "One noble act doesn't change him or his family," Elliot snarled.

"Then what does it do Elliot?" Gwen asked, she too becoming angry.

Her brother remained silent.

"How dare you slander him like that, when he was the only one to come to my aid."

Elliot hung his head.

"I've concluded that he is a decent man, not the perfect one, mind you. And he deserves our gratitude if nothing else. He can't help the color of his skin, but _you_ can help your rudeness."

"Gwen is right, of course." Tom concluded the discussion, seeing that tension was quickly rising. "I think we're all tired. Let's just take it easy tonight."

* * *

><p>Arthur had gotten home about ten minutes ago, walking right past the living room trudging up the stairs to the second floor. Merlin and Morgana had been playing cards and listening to the radio when they saw Arthur come in, his knuckles bloodied. They followed him up the stairs, calling his name, gaining no response.<p>

When Arthur finally got to his bedroom, he finally acknowledged his cousin and friend. Shutting the door, he told them why he looked the way he did, and what had happened to Gwen. Morgana and Merlin sat on Arthur's bed, listening to him recount the details.

"Oh, poor Gwen!" Morgana exclaimed, covering her mouth as she heard what had happened to her maid and friend.

Merlin was silent, fixing his gaze on Arthur's window, shocked to the same extent as Morgana. "It looks like you got Roger good," he finally spoke up, referring to Arthur's bloodied knuckles.

"Not nearly good enough!"

"Arthur calm down, please. Someone will hear. You don't want Uncle to find out, do you? You're lucky he's gone for the weekend or else….you know he already thinks you're reckless."

"I don't care what father thinks! I prefer he consider me reckless, than a coward who would watch an innocent woman be assaulted by a man twice her size! You know how small Gwen is, and Roger is nearly a body builder! She looked so scared…" Arthur's voice trailed as he turned his back on Merlin and Morgana who shared a confused look.

"And the worst part is," he continued, "they're gonna get away with it, and they'd do it again if given the chance."

"You've seen their true colors Arthur; it's not your duty to associate with them after this."

"Hell, Roger will be lucky if I don't kick his ass again when I see him at school tomorrow!"

"If what you said you did to him is true… I don't think he'll be able to make it to school," Merlin quipped.

"I wonder how Gwen is," Morgana added thoughtfully. "Arthur," Morgana said standing, "your knuckles, let me clean them."

"No, I'm fine."

Morgana ignored him as she walked into his bathroom to get some water and anything to clean the wounds.

Merlin looked at Arthur, who stared out the window, hand on his hip.

"Arthur I've never seen you this way about anyone—I mean… anything before."

"I couldn't watch her be brutalized."

Merlin looked at Arthur, as he heard Morgana run the tap in his bathroom. "Arthur, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

Arthur looked at Merlin, afraid to utter another word.

"All ready," Morgana said, walking in. "Sit down Arthur."

He voiced no complaint as he sat in between Merlin and Morgana. His cousin picked up his right hand, and proceeded to clean it.

"You better hope Uncle doesn't find out."

"No… he will," Merlin commented lightly.

Morgana gave him a quick glare, as Arthur remained silent.

"It was a noble thing, Arthur, what you did for Gwen. I'm sure she's thankful."

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Merlin looked down at his hands as Morgana remained silent.

All Merlin could think about the rest of the day was Arthur's last statement: what was happening to his friend?

* * *

><p>Gwen woke up Monday morning, dreading going to work and having to face Arthur. She didn't want to admit it; but she was thoroughly embarrassed. Gwen kept reminding herself that Arthur considered those three pigs his friends; how different was he? A couple of kind conversations and similarities didn't mean anything significant…did it?<p>

Mercifully, Alice asked few questions on the car ride to the estate, and Gwen silently went about her chores. She didn't see Arthur that morning; she figured that he had left for class early. Perhaps he was avoiding her too…

Humming a comforting hymn, she walked up the spiral staircase to Arthur's bedroom to put his clean laundry back in his drawers. She actually smiled when she saw that his room was clean for once, and she wouldn't have to do too much cleaning. She was thankful even for the small blessings.

She went about putting the clothing in the appropriate drawers, as she looked out at the ashtray on the balcony and it was… empty? Usually she had to empty it every two days… but she had been noticing that Arthur had been smoking a little less lately. Finished with the clothing, she looked at his bed which looked messier than usual. She shook her head as she approached the bed, still baffled that anyone could stand such a mess.

She walked to the linen closet on the hall, getting a new set of red sheets which complimented the shade of red on his canopy bed. She started off with the pillow covering, but as she lifted up the large pillow, she noticed something under it. She picked up the small book which appeared under the pillow: Fahrenheit 451. She sighed sadly, remembering that her own copy had been destroyed yesterday, she was happy at least that Arthur was reading it. Judging from the little bit she had read, she considered it a good read.

Gwen examined the book a little more closely, and realized that it must have been brand new; not a single page frayed or torn, with the spine perfectly intact. Curious, she picked it up, opening the cover. She blinked rapidly several times, sure that what she was seeing was a mirage of some sort. Neatly inscribed in blue ink, Gwen read:

_For Guinevere, hope you don't miss the old one too much. Arthur_

Gwen sat on the bed, holding the book in her now trembling hands… Arthur had bought her a book? Not only did he come to her rescue yesterday afternoon, but he was moved enough to replace her destroyed book.

"My goodness…" she said to herself as she flipped through the several pages. She truly was moved; it was a very kind and unexpected gesture. _Boy…I guess you really can't judge a book by its cover. He's nothing like those boys._

* * *

><p>Arthur sat in his history class, his head in the clouds. The entire period he had wondered if Gwen had found the book he bought for her. He left the bed extra messy that morning just to draw her attention to it. He fondly remembered the events of last night after Morgana had cleaned his knuckles.<p>

_"Clarence!" Arthur addressed the off duty chauffer who sat in the kitchen._

_"Yes sir?"_

_"Come here," Arthur said, standing in the living room._

_The tall chauffer quickly made his way to the young Pendragon._

_"Don't worry; you're not in trouble," Arthur assured the man once he was in front of him. "Follow me." Arthur led him to the foyer, making sure no one was around._ _"Alright, I need you to run an errand for me."_

_"Of course, sir."_

_"I need you to go to town, and buy a book."_

_"A book?" Clarence nearly exclaimed, unable to mask his surprise._

_"I know, I know, but yes: a book." Arthur pulled out a small slip of paper from his pocket, handing it to the chauffer._ _"Listen: I don't care if you have to go to the next town over, visit every bookshop in the damn county; I want the book tonight."_

_Clarence looked at the paper quizzically. "Of course sir, anything else?"_

_"No, but make sure it's that one," he said, pointing at the paper in Clarence's hand. "This is very important to me. Oh, don't tell anyone…it's a gift for someone."_

_"Of course, I'll get going then, sir."_

_Arthur patted the chauffer on the back. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."_

Arthur was snapped out of his memory when he heard the professor angrily calling his name from the front of the room.

"Mr. Pendragon! Would you be so kind as to answer the question?"

Arthur looked around the room, all eyes on him. How long had he zoned out for? "Sorry sir, could you repeat it?"

Rolling his eyes, the professor posed the question to another student who was more alert, as the rest of the class refocused their attention to their textbooks. Arthur was able to concentrate for the remaining thirty minutes of the class; however, his mind did occasionally drift to his plan.

Arthur was the first one to jet out of the classroom, not wasting any time socializing in the courtyard. He couldn't help but notice the whispers that followed him all the way to the parking lot, the same way they had when he walked into class. He was well aware that he'd be the school's hottest gossip until the end of the week.

Approaching his Aston-Martin, Arthur found Vivian waiting for him, checking her hair in the side mirrors. Rolling his eyes as he audibly scoffed, Vivian jolted rod straight.

"Arthur," she said frowning.

"What is it now, Vivian?" Arthur asked, standing next to his car.

"What happened yesterday?" she asked, pouting.

Arthur pulled the keys out of his pants pocket. "Oh, you mean you haven't heard?" he nearly snarled sarcastically.

"Don't be like that, Arthur. Tell me what happened, we can talk, right?"

"God, Vivian, I'm not in the mood, okay!" Arthur ran a hand over his face to try and calm down a little as he watched Vivian winced at his brashness.

"What's been wrong with you lately, Arthur? Things haven't been the same between us." She took a step towards him, as Arthur reacted taking a step backwards.

Finally, he had had enough of Vivian Remington, and her persistence. "Vivian, just leave me alone! I don't know how direct I have to be to make you realize that I want _nothing_ to do with you. This 'us' you keep talking about, doesn't exist!" Arthur could see the moisture collecting on her eyelids; but he wasn't through. "I'll be polite when your family is over, but I don't want to talk to you anywhere else. Now I'm sorry it had to come to this." Arthur finally opened his car door. "But I'm through, I'm sick of dropping hints."

As Vivian's first teardrop fell, Arthur felt like a boulder had been lifted from his shoulders. He jumped into the driver's seat, starting the engine. Vivian stood next to the car still, pretending that the conversation _wasn't_ over. When she saw that Arthur was serious about the end of what she considered to be a relationship, she knocked on his windows as people began to take notice.

"Arthur, you can't do this!" she wailed. "You can't just end things like this!"

_What the hell is wrong with this woman?_ "Vivian, get the hell out of my way, unless you want your feet run over!"

Arthur pulled out of the parking spot like a bat out of hell, his tires screeching all the way off the campus. Vivian jumped back, as she watched Arthur speed off, a couple of students jumping out of his way. She wanted to let out a scream for him to come back, but she knew he was long gone. She tried to control her emotions, wiping her eyes after a series of hiccups. Turning to make her way back to her car, she spotted the pasty and scrawny Merlin gawking at her.

Narrowing her eyes marred by smudged make-up at Arthur's lanky friend, she threw her head back, stomping off in a furry.


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello everyone, hope all is well. Here's chapter 7, hope you enjoy. I'm very excited for chapter 8, hope to have it to you all soon. Happy reading!_

_YoureAnIllusion_

**Chapter 7: Welcome to My Broken Home**

Arthur made record time back to the estate after he left Vivian bawling in the school parking lot. Speeding a good twenty miles per hour above the set limits, he began to wonder what exactly he was racing home for anyway. The reality set in that his father was scheduled to return from his business trip that morning, meaning it was only a matter of time before Uther summoned his son to account for his actions. Though Arthur had assured Morgana on numerous occasions that he wasn't afraid of Uther's wrath, deep down he knew his father would have more than a few cross words for him after this incident.

Pulling his convertible into his parking space near the fountain, Arthur groaned when he saw his father's car parked on the opposite side. He tried to push the unpleasant thoughts out of his head as he jogged up the steps; his direction took him determinedly through the foyer straight to the kitchen. Stella always had food prepared for him after he returned home from classes, and he hadn't spoken with her for quite some time.

He smelt the aromas from the kitchen before he actually entered and when he did, he found Stella with Marge and Alice, all three women cooking and quietly gossiping. As soon as the young Pendragon appeared in the doorway, the chatter ceased.

"Arthur," Stella greeted him happily with a smile.

"Hey, Stella." Arthur looked around the kitchen at the two other maids, who silently turned their backs to Arthur. "Pardon me, but may we have a moment?" he asked, addressing the two cooks, who had suddenly become timid.

The women looked up, startled, as Stella nodded for them to leave. Alice and Marge glued their gaze to the tiled floor as they silently and quickly brushed past Arthur.

Stella walked to the sink to wash her hands, as Arthur picked an apple from the large fruit basket.

"What's the matter? You look a little down," Stella noted as Arthur pulled out a stool.

Tiredly, he rubbed his hands over his face, feeling his rough facial hair begin to make an appearance. "Is Father back?" he asked, ignoring Stella's inquiry.

"Yes, of course—" Stella began before her gaze focused on the battered state of Arthur's knuckles. Quickly drying her hands, she moved to stand across from him, releasing a gasp as she saw the true extent of his injuries. Gently she pulled his right hand away from his face. "What happened to you Arthur?"

Arthur promptly yanked his bruised hand out of Stella's, embarrassed and not wanting to account for his actions just yet. "You should see the other guy," he quipped, attempting make light of the situation.

Stella saw right through his forced and unconvincing smile as she picked up her wooden rolling pin. "You've been fighting again, haven't you?"

"You make it sound like it's a common occurrence."

"Common enough, and stop trying to avoid telling me what happened."

Arthur averted his gaze as he finally relented. He quickly recounted the entire incident to Stella who listened quietly and thoughtfully, proceeding in her tasks.

"I told you them boys were trouble, Arthur."

"They were fine until yesterday. I couldn't be a part of their brutality."

"And I'm proud that you weren't. I figured one day something like this would happen; where you'd realize that you're too good for their company."

Arthur looked away once again, shame overtaking him as he remembered past events that weren't so noble. "No I'm not, Stella."

"Yes you are. That took courage Arthur – standing up for someone like that even when you know you'll get flack for it. Now, I can't speak for Gwen, but she's a good girl. I'm sure she's fine, and grateful for what you've done. I don't like fighting… but sometimes you have to. And I'm proud of you, Arthur, very proud."

Arthur's cheeks flushed at Stella's heartfelt praise. "Yeah, but Father sure won't feel the same way."

Stella shrugged. "Then he's wrong."

Arthur smiled at her honesty. "I wonder when he'll yell at me for all of this. Lecturing me on fighting, and reminding me of how reckless I am. Blah, blah, blah."

"He'll probably call you into his office soon. Boy, he's gonna be mad!" Stella nearly laughed as she shook her head. "You better start preparing your excuses now."

Arthur resisted a glare, as he wondered why Stella couldn't sugarcoat things… at least _sometimes_. "I bought Guinevere a new copy of the book that was destroyed by one of my 'friends' yesterday. I figured that she at least deserved that."

Stella blinked a couple of times rapidly. "Did you now?"

"Yeah, Clarence ran out last night to pick it up for me. I told him I didn't care if he had to go a hundred miles to find the thing; I wanted it immediately so that I could give it to Guinevere today. He said he had to go to three separate stores to find it."

Stella was impressed that Arthur would make such a grand gesture towards Gwen. "Three stores, you said?"

Arthur nodded as he continued to eat his apple. "Yeah, he's a good guy. I hope Guinevere found it," he said, smiling to himself.

Stella looked up from her rolling pin to find Arthur with a dopey grin on his face. "Found it? What does that mean?"

"What! Nothing, I m-m-mean—"

"Arthur, quit stuttering. Why are you acting so strange today? Did Roger knock you upside your head too?"

_You're the second person to tell me that I've been acting strange today…_ "I'm just fine Stella. Just a little—"

Their conversation was cut short by the screech from a pair of shoes in front of the kitchen doorway. Gwen appeared soon after, resting on the doorframe, slightly out of breath. "Miss Stella, have you seen Ar—" she rushed out before she took a second look about the kitchen. She blinked at the sight of Arthur, not expecting to find him there. She wasn't prepared to face him just yet.

Arthur stood once Gwen came into full view, self-consciously running a hand through his hair. The two forgot Stella's presence as various thoughts rushed through their minds.

"Yes, dear?" Stella asked impatiently, disrupting the silence.

Gwen shook her head, as she addressed Arthur, finally stating the reason of her sudden appearance. "Mr. Pendragon wishes to see you… in his office, sir."

Arthur's shoulders sagged, as he gulped rather audibly; the time for reckoning had finally arrived.

"You better get going then; you know how he hates waiting," Stella reminded Arthur as he watched Gwen quickly rush out of the kitchen.

Arthur didn't linger to hear Stella finish her thought, for he took off in the direction Gwen had departed.

Stella looked up, realizing that Arthur had abruptly left, not waiting for her to finish. She had known the young man since birth, and usually he was an open book to her. But she could tell there was something else stirring in him, and for the life of her she couldn't put a finger on it. Stella eventually chalked up the unusual anxiety to nerves and stress from school and home.

Her thoughts were disrupted as Alice and Marge walked back into the kitchen laughing loudly. "That boy tore out of here faster than a speedin' bullet! He nearly knocked us over, Stella!" Marge remarked, as she walked to the back counter.

Arthur nearly ran to catch up with Gwen as she walked away from the kitchen into an adjacent hallway, next to several guest rooms. "Guinevere!" he called out in a harsh whisper, as the maid pretended not to hear his footsteps behind her.

She finally stopped, realizing that Arthur would follow her all the way outside, until she finally acknowledged him. Still, she didn't face him as he finally came to stand next to her. Gwen looked down the hall, watching a servant go up the stairs with a basket full of laundry. On the opposite end of the hall sounds of sweeping could be heard, all observations indicating that they were far from being alone.

Guinevere finally turned to Arthur, who waited patiently for her to address him. "Sir, your father's waiting for you, and he didn't sound too happy," Gwen reminded him.

"He can wait; I wanted to talk to you."

"About what exactly?" Gwen whispered as a servant nodded at the two of them as she made her way to the kitchen.

"You know damn well about what," he whispered as well.

Gwen gulped as she looked at the various people, who were in earshot and could easily eavesdrop on their entire conversation. Arthur too took a look around at the several employees, who pretended to be carrying on with their tasks, but were obviously listening in. Without thinking, he quickly took Gwen by the arm pulling her into an empty room next door. He closed the door softly, as a wide-eyed Gwen watched him, his strong hand still encircling her arm.

"Sir, this isn't a good idea. I'll be more than willing to talk to you later, but…" Gwen wasn't sure how to voice her opposition to the situation he had created by speaking to her in private, in an empty room, with several witnesses nearby.

"I don't care," he stated, releasing her arm, and waving his hands. "People always talk in this house. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Gwen quickly looked away, hiding her wrist under her apron. "I'm okay. It was no big deal."

Arthur immediately noticed her gesture, and knew she was hiding the bruises. "Is that the hand?" he asked pointing.

Gwen mutely nodded.

"May I… see?"

Slowly Gwen moved her purple wrist, as Arthur put his own hand out to assess her wounds. A small gasp resulted as he saw the large angry handprint of Roger's grip covering her small and dainty wrist. "That bastard," he snarled in response.

"It'll heal."

"He's still a bastard."

Despite herself, Gwen released a small giggle, coaxing a smile from Arthur. "I must thank you though. I'd have this printed across my face as well if it wasn't for you."

"You're welcome, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I wouldn't let him hurt you — I mean, I wouldn't let him hurt any woman."

"And for the book, that was too kind, you really shouldn't have."

He took a step forward, closer. "Of course, you deserve a replacement."

Gwen looked around the bedroom as she cleared her throat, wondering if the conversation would continue. "Your father _is_ waiting." Gwen looked down at her hand, which Arthur was still holding. "Sir…you can let go of my hand now."

Arthur let go of her hand like a hot potato, stuffing his own in his pocket.

"Call me Arthur. I think we know each other well enough by now."

She looked up, shaking her head, and met his gaze. "No, I couldn't, it'd be too improper."

"I insist… people I care about have such a privilege."

Gwen didn't tear her eyes from Arthur's, though she felt extremely light headed, and her stomach began to knot. It must have been a simple slip of the tongue… it had to be. However, she quickly began to rethink that last statement, for the gaze Arthur had on her was like no other. It was almost as if his lovely blue eyes were peering straight into her soul; he saw _her_.

"Arthur!" Morgana could be heard calling for her cousin in the hallway.

Arthur and Guinevere tore their gaze from each other, refocusing on the door, and Morgana's nearing voice.

"Arthur, you have to go now," Gwen said ever so softly.

Arthur smiled as he heard his name roll off of her tongue for the first time. He looked back at Gwen, unwilling to part with her just yet. There was so much more he wanted to say to her, but he was afraid that more confessions would slip. Maybe it was a blessing that Morgana had come along. Arthur stepped out of the room without saying another word to Gwen, opening the bedroom door just wide enough so he could slip out, and avoid exposing her.

"Arthur, what were you doing in there? Didn't you hear me calling earlier?" Morgana asked, a little out of breath.

"Sorry. I was looking for something," he rushed out quickly.

"You can do that later… if you survive. Uncle is going crazy, I'm positive that he found out about yesterday."

"Yeah, me too…" Arthur's voice trailed off as he glanced at the closed door leading to the guest bedroom. "On a scale from one to ten... how angry would you say he is?"

Morgana didn't hesitate with her bluntness. "Level thirteen, for sure."

"Damn…"

"And wasting more time _here _isn't helping!" Morgana nearly yelled.

Arthur finally took heed to her warning as he left the hallway, jogging all the way to his father's office. Normally, he would have taken his time in getting there, but he had already kept him waiting for much longer than he should have. Once outside the office doors, Arthur took a moment to collect all the confused and jumbled thoughts in his mind. He finally knocked, waiting for his father's permission to enter.

"Arthur? That better be you!" Uther yelled angrily from the other side.

Without responding, the young Pendragon pushed open the double doors and then closed them softly behind him. His father stood behind his desk, hands on his hips as he stared out of a nearby window. Arthur walked to the opposite side of his father's desk, deciding that it would be best if he remained standing.

"Arthur Lewis Pendragon…" Uther began slowly and deliberately. Arthur could tell that his father was doing his best to control his tone and decibel level. "You'd better have a damn good explanation for this mess," he hissed, finally facing his son, the vein in his neck already throbbing.

Arthur swallowed in a vain attempt to relieve the sudden dryness in his throat. "I take it you've heard about what happened—"

"Don't you dare use your sarcasm with me!"

Arthur sighed: "I'm not. I just… wanted to see how much you already knew."

"Oh, you want to know what I know, Arthur?"

Arthur stood his ground, resisting the urge to nod to his father.

Uther needed no further encouragement to begin his rant. "I come back to what _should_ have been my tranquil home from a tiring weekend in New York, and the first thing I'm bombarded with is a message from Lucy: to call Ned Nelson. And I ask myself: 'Why would Ned Nelson, someone who fixes watches for a living, need to talk to me?' So I call Ned, on my own time mind you, and you know what he tells me?"

"No, what?" Arthur played along, doing his best to remain as respectful as possible.

"That my son," Uther yelled, slamming a fist down on his desk, resulting in several things toppling over, "started a street fight, in broad daylight. Also, that it took two grown men to restrain him, and that he was swearing like some inbred fool! And you know what that fight was over, _son_?"

"No… what?" Arthur asked, gritting his teeth.

Uther finally let the cap off of what little control he had maintained, not caring to keep his voice hush any longer. "It was over the new maid! Now please tell me, Ned Nelson has finally lost his damn mind, and it's not true!"

"Then I'd be a liar," Arthur stated with a calmness he certainly didn't feel.

Uther took a moment to still his racing mind as his eyes narrowed to slits. "Should I even bat an eye at your antics anymore, Arthur? I always thought I had raised you better, but then you run off and do things like this. I can't even go on a business trip, without some sort of calamity occurring at home!"

"You did raise me well father, and that's why I had to do something when I saw Guinevere being manhandled by Roger."

Uther paused, confusion clouding his features. "Who the hell is Guinevere?"

"The maid, the woman Roger was attacking."

"Arthur, there were other ways you could've dealt with the situation, something that didn't include tackling Roger like a quarterback!"

Despite the intensity of the moment, Arthur had to swallow a chuckle; the analogy was actually quite accurate.

"Roger had to be taken to the hospital! I hope you know that I'm going to have to pay for the medical bills… a damn broken rib Arthur? You know, I can only cover your ass so much, and my patience with your recklessness is growing thin, boy! How on earth am I supposed to conduct business with Russell Davenport, Roger's father, after this? Are you just hell bent on soiling our name?"

"Father, if you expect me to watch an innocent woman be battered in public… well I'd rather not be a Pendragon if that's what Pendragon men are supposed to do! I know Guinevere is a colored—"

"Oh, Arthur, please!" Uther said, turning.

"_But_ she's still human, and I won't apologize for defending a _woman_... no matter what her color is. I bet you wouldn't be upset if she was white," Arthur scoffed. As he watched his father's mouth form a straight line, he immediately wished that he had chosen a different set of words. He knew his father was resisting the urge to jump over the desk, and strangle him.

"You will hold your tongue, boy!" Uther yelled angrily, pointing his finger at his disrespectful son. "This issue is much greater than mere race or skin color. It's about my—your – reputation. But naturally, the fact that she's a poor colored woman just makes it even worse! Arthur, the world we live in isn't perfect… and there are certain things we cannot change. I can't have you picking fights around town over people like _her_." Uther's voice became slightly calmer.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "And who would 'people like her' be, father? I can't believe that you're upset with me, because I did the right thing!"

"Arthur, I'm upset that you'd be so reckless as to batter and alienate the people we have no choice but to socialize with! Do you not realize the complications you have created for me? All over some petty maid…"

"All you care about is your business, you don't care about people… well I do."

"Well, this is a new development. When did you become so chivalrous?" Uther scoffed.

Arthur remained silent.

"Now you listen up Arthur; you're going to march down to that expensive school that _I_ pay for, and apologize to your friends."

Arthur scoffed. "They are not my friends. I'm not going to apologize for doing what's right! They need to be the ones apologizing to Guinevere!"

"Arthur, throw away your useless utopian ideas! This is the way things have been done for years! The coloreds know their place, the Jews know theirs; it's high time that you learnt yours. No white man is going to apologize to some colored, _especially_ if it was her fault!"

"Her fault?"

"Enough Arthur, enough!" Uther said, waving his arms. "Now, I don't know where you're getting these crazy ideas from, but they're not welcome in this house. You created this mess, now you will fix it! I'm getting too old for this; I'm sick and tired of cleaning up after you! So you will humble yourself, and apologize. I don't give a damn if you're lying through your teeth; it's for the good of our family and the family business."

Arthur shook his head violently as he folded his arms across his chest. "I will do no such thing. I'm not sure what Ned Nelson told you happened, but what those three 'friends' of mine need is another kick up the backside, not me kissing it. I won't do it… I refuse."

Uther observed his son, utterly speechless at his stoic defiance and stubbornness. "I don't know why I even bother anymore! The only thing you've succeeded in doing is being a royal disgrace!"

Arthur decided that he had had enough; his father wasn't interested in the truth, only in belittling him.

"There you go, turning your back to your problems, yet again."

"No; I'm just not doing this with you right now."

Arthur nearly ripped the double doors off of their sturdy hinges as he blew out of the room. He could still hear his father calling after him as he stormed out a set of French doors, and onto the back patio. Not wasting a single moment, he lit a much-wanted cigarette as he stepped down from the concrete patio. Uther's voice began to dissipate as Arthur's loafers crunched against the expensive green grass. Some male servants were completing yard work on the grounds, and paused to nod at their fuming master. Arthur ignored them, afraid that if he were to speak at all, profanities would come spilling out.

He always knew that he wasn't the model son his demanding father had set out to have, yet hearing out loud how his father really felt about him hurt more than he could articulate. Couldn't Uther tell that for the past two years he had been trying to be the son that he could be proud of again? He thought perhaps his father would take pride in the fact that he fought for the innocent no matter the consequences. However, Arthur was reminded yet again that social status and the _family business_ were the two things that Uther cared about the most.

Arthur tried to tell himself that he shouldn't have been upset, for scenarios similar to this had unfolded before. He did something to upset Uther, in response he lashed out, then Arthur would retreat to his secret place - the pond.

One of the few places that brought him comfort – and that's where he was headed now. About a ten-minute trek, following the faint path, led Arthur to a large pond, which he associated with some of his most fond memories of adventure and innocence. As children, he, Morgana, and Merlin would ride their horses to this little kingdom, spending the afternoon swimming and playing around the grounds. Arthur hadn't visited his private and secluded "retreat" for the longest of times, and now seemed an appropriate occasion, if there ever was one, to retreat to his secret place of solitude for comfort.

Following the small trail through the thick canopy of trees, he arrived to find his sanctuary in the same state he had left it when he last visited months ago. The small dock and tire swing seemed to be frozen in time, looking as new as when his father surprised him with putting it up thirteen years ago. The familiar red cardinal flowers and yellow swamp candles covered the banks, making the area a worthy landscape for a vivid Monet painting. The scenery continued to captivate Arthur to the same degree on his hundredth visit, as it did his first. In fact, he was so mesmerized that he didn't notice his cigarette was at its end, and burnt his middle finger. Dropping it immediately as he felt it sear into his flesh, he stomped the end out, but pocketed the butt; he wouldn't dare litter this place.

Almost in a trance, Arthur walked out onto the dock, watching the currents from the wind shift the water lilies side to side. A headache began to set in as he took his shoes and socks off, dangling his legs over the dock, and into the water.

The words of his angry and disappointed father ran through his head in a reel. _Are you just hell bent on soiling our name? The coloreds know their place, the Jews know theirs; it's high time that you learnt yours!_

He tried to push the angry comments out of his head, but the familiar words taunted him. He picked up a nearby stone, throwing it into the water with all the aggression he felt flowing through his veins. Arthur watched a small water lily get crushed on the impact and felt a sense of joy at its destruction. Before he knew it, he was picking up all the stones he could find, crushing the water foliage until he collapsed, exhausted.

Lying on his back, watching the clouds roll in the blue sky, Arthur wondered what his mother would say if she ever heard Uther talk to him the way he did. Arthur always concluded that if his mother had lived, Uther would be a completely different man… as would he.

But in reality his mother was dead, and these were the circumstances he was given. Arthur's mind slowly drifted to his mother's dusty Rosary, which lay in a bedside drawer, the object he felt the most connection to his mother with. It was one of her most prized possessions, passed down in her family for generations… and there it was collecting dust in a forgotten drawer. It took all the mental energy he had to stop thinking of his deceased mother and her neglected prayer beads. He didn't want to feel even more guilt than he already did.

* * *

><p>"Gwen, are you going home now?" Morgana approached the maid in the foyer after a tense and lonely dinner with Uther.<p>

"Yes, it's getting late," Gwen replied, shifting her purse to her other shoulder. She looked around to see if anyone was nearby before uttering her next words. "Is Arthur back yet?" she whispered as Morgana took her arm, pulling her to the side.

"No, he's been gone for hours. He probably won't be back until everyone is sleeping… or so he thinks. Uncle usually waits up for him."

Gwen blinked; she hadn't realized that Arthur had been gone so long. She had seen him walking away from the house after she heard the yelling, but she figured he was walking to the stables for a ride, or the tennis courts to take his anger out. "You said Mr. Pendragon _usually _waits for Arthur… this has happened before?

Morgana nearly laughed. "Yeah, it used to be like clockwork! But, it's been a while since he and Uncle have gotten into a scuffle. They've been getting on quite well lately, until… you know."

Gwen looked away for a moment, feeling guilty and embarrassed; this was all her fault. "His car's still here. Where could he have gone?"

"I have my ideas…" Morgana began, before her attention was caught by a book poking out of the maid's purse. "What's this, then?" she asked plucking it out of Gwen's bag.

"Oh, nothing!" The maid responded a little too quickly, hoping that Morgana wouldn't open it to the front page.

"Arthur was talking about this book, last night." Morgana stated plainly, as she handed it back to Gwen. She had overheard the conversation Arthur had with the chauffer the day before.

"Really?" Gwen unevenly sputtered. "I'll see you tomorrow. I hope Arthur comes back soon and safely."

"Bye Gwen," Morgana said as she watched the maid walk through the front doors, catching up with Alice, who was waiting to take her home.

As Morgana made her way back to the living room, she saw her uncle's chauffer in the corner of her eye, and decided to do something she had meant to last night.

"Clarence," she called, stopping the man in his tracks.

"Evening Miss," he said tipping his small cap.

"Good evening to you as well." Morgana closed the space between them, bringing her voice to a quiet hush, which unnerved the tall chauffer. "Now I was down the hall last night, and I couldn't help but over hear your conversation with Arthur."

"Yes ma'am."

"Ah, so … you know that book Arthur sent you to pick up yesterday?"

Clarence loosened his collar nervously. "Of course! I had to go to three stores to get it, and beg the third not to close and let me in for just a minute."

Morgana gave him the most charming smile she could muster. "What was it called then? It couldn't have been for Arthur!" she exclaimed laughing. She hoped the chauffer would understand her train of thought.

"I'm sorry miss, but he was really secretive, told me not to tell anyone. It was a gift, for someone special, I think. I regret that I can't tell you ma'am, truly I do."

Morgana playfully nudged his side with her elbow. "Oh c'mon Clarence, it's just a book."

Clarence's gaze shifted about nervously. "I don't want to get in any trouble, ma'am. Sir told me not—"

"You won't get in any trouble, my lips are sealed. It'll be our secret," she whispered, giving him another smile.

"Oh, okay… alright." Clarence sighed as he fished into his pockets for the slip of paper Arthur had given him yesterday. He handed it to Morgana, without unfolding it.

"Thank you," Morgana immediately turned away with the ball of paper, running up the stairs with it clasped in her hands. When she reached the deserted second floor, Morgana gingerly unfolded the paper. Several times her eyes ran across the two words scribbled on the paper, just to confirm her suspicions. Indeed, her fears proved to be correct; there was no doubt that it was Arthur's messy handwriting. Morgana was too cynical to believe that the relationship between the paper she held and Gwen's obviously new book was just a mere coincidence.

Her mind ran through Arthur's recent suspicious behavior, beginning to connect the dots. Previously, she had convinced herself that she was just reading into things too much... but now she wasn't so sure. As she recalled the disturbing events of recent days, her stomach began to knot in nausea.

She knew how Arthur could be charming and manipulative; she had seen him woo a countless number of pretty girls. A sense of dread washed over her as she considered Arthur's womanizing nature, and Gwen's mild naiveté. She loved her cousin dearly, and valued her friend… but this_ thing_ they were getting involved in with each other wouldn't be good for anyone. In that moment, Morgana Pendragon declared to herself that it was her duty to protect the both of them from their own and others' stupidity.

_Title Inspired by: "Welcome to My Broken Home" by We Are the Ocean_


	8. Chapter 8

_Alright, I present to you Chapter 8, the longest chapter yet (oh my!). Sorry for the wait...but I think you guys will consider it worth it. I spent hours editing this, and made lots of changes, but I wanted to make it as close to perfect for you guys! So I hope you enjoy, I had lots of fun writing this. If you haven't already, add this story to your alert/subscription, so you can see the story unfold! Happy reading :)_

_YoureAnIllusion_

**Chapter 8: Tempt Me, Temptation**

Arthur had skipped breakfast the morning after the confrontation with his father, both men still bitter with one another. As a result, Arthur pulled up onto campus early, his car-radio softly playing. As he sang along to his new favorite Nat King Cole single, Arthur noticed more girls were taking notice of him than usual. He was no stranger to female attention; however, as he parked his car, he noticed that it wasn't just the girls gawking at him. Male students lingered as they walked past his car as well, quickly shifting their gaze once Arthur returned the favor. He figured that word of his fight with Roger had spread even further over night, and now the gossip would be at its fever pitch.

As Arthur parked his car, he let out a sigh of relief as he saw Merlin making his way to him, joyously whistling. His friend's whistling ceased however, as he took notice of the gossiping pupils whose attention was clearly on Arthur.

"What's going on?" Merlin asked once he was finally at Arthur's side.

Arthur took out a cigarette before replying. "I don't know actually. And I don't really care; I have… other things on my mind."

Merlin raised his eyebrows, as he watched his friend light his cigarette. "Oh…did something happen to Gwen?"

Arthur looked at his best friend, giving him his signature look when he thought Merlin was being a total idiot. "What the hell _are_ you talking about, Merlin?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. What's on your mind then?" Merlin tried to quickly deflect his miscalculation.

"I got into a huge argument with Dad last night." Arthur began walking towards the campus with Merlin in tow.

"I imagined that you would eventually," Merlin replied honestly.

"Yeah, well, we're both really pissed off. I avoided eating with him this morning; that's why I'm here so early. "

"Yeah, it's an occasion that will be recorded in history," Merlin quipped.

"I'm not in the mood for sarcasm right now, Merlin. Yesterday was pretty bad, like the worst it's been in months."

"Yeah, I bet. What happened, exactly?"

Arthur took a deep breath before beginning. "Well, he summoned me to his office. Then…I don't know." Arthur trailed off as he turned from Merlin, taking in a generous drag. "He told me that I should learn my place, apologize to my 'friends' - oh, and that everything was Guinevere's fault, naturally."

Merlin let out a sigh. "It could've been worse."

Arthur shrugged before his sullen face was brightened by a grin. "Hey, you know I broke one of Roger's ribs?"

Merlin's lip curled as he watched a mild sense of satisfaction take hold of Arthur's features. "Seriously?"

Arthur nodded, as he and Merlin walked to an empty bench. "Yeah, well apparently Dad is going to pay the medical bill. It's not like the Davenports couldn't handle it," Arthur snorted.

"It's just polite."

Arthur shot Merlin a glare. "The bastard deserves worse than he got; he's been injured worse during polo matches. I spoke with Guinevere yesterday, and she showed me her wrist. Merlin, you can see that prick's handprint wrapped around her tiny wrist. I wish I could kick his ass all over again!" Arthur huffed, crossing his arms.

"You should calm down; it's too early to get so worked up."

"Oh, and I shouldn't be?"

"Quit getting all defensive. Listen: Gwen's fine, right?" Merlin paused, waiting for his friend to nod in agreement. "Well, you going at it with Roger again won't do anything but make your father angrier, maybe get you in trouble with the school… or worse, the _police_."

Arthur looked away for a moment. "I know, I know... I hate it when you're right. You're being rational, I'm not."

Merlin opened his mouth to voice a witty response about Gwen, when he quickly decided against it; Arthur was pretty sensitive. The two friends sat silently on the bench, both trying to avoid the occasional glare a passing student would give them.

"Do you think Roger will be back today?" Arthur finally broke the silence, as he crushed his cigarette butt.

"I'm not sure... probably not."

"You know, I bet the sick bastard thinks I did him a favor."

"And how do you figure that?"

"Simple; when the girls see him all roughed up, they'll go crazy. You know how they are, always needing to take care of someone. Just what the pervert wants, more girls fawning over him," Arthur scoffed in disgust. Arthur cut off his next thought as he watched Merlin rise from the bench to look at something in the distance, completely disregarding what he had just said. "Merlin! Are you listening to me?"

"Shh!" Merlin whispered hoarsely, waving his hand to silence his friend.

"What _are_ you looking at?" Arthur asked, as he too stood in an attempt to see what had abruptly caught Merlin's attention. Slightly straining his eyes in a squint, Arthur could see a small hub of students in a circle, obviously surrounding something. Slowly, the crowd moved toward the bench where the two friends stood, as the murmurs of the group became more audible.

"Let us through!" an angry voice called, seemingly from within the middle of the small crowd.

Arthur and Merlin looked at each other simultaneously; either could recognize the gruff voice anywhere: Roger Davenport. Arthur wondered if he should go in the opposite direction to avoid Roger, or stand his ground and risk an altercation on school property. He didn't have much time to make his decision, for the battered Roger burst through the crowd, which immediately silenced.

"Damn…" Arthur and Merlin both whispered to one another as Roger, and his wounds, came into full view.

Merlin glanced at his friend in conspiracy: "He's gotten more roughed up than _that_ in a polo match?"

Arthur gave Merlin the coldest glare he could muster, as his gaze refocused on Roger again. Was that a limp that he saw? "He's just being dramatic, to get attention." Yet, as Arthur continued to take visual inventory of Roger's wounds, he couldn't help but notice that the bully's knuckles were bruised to a far greater extent than his own, and a dark bruise marred the side of his face that received impact when Arthur had initially tackled him. The limp Roger sported was no act: his back and left thigh had endured tremendous shock and momentum as he was forced against the concrete.

Arthur's assessment of his craft was cut short as Roger, with Drake and Alex in tow, finally walked past he and Merlin. Arthur thought that Roger would confront him, in an attempt to regain some of his masculinity, but who was he kidding? Roger was the dictionary definition of a _coward_. Instead, once at a safe distance away from Arthur, Roger voiced a gruff, "Screw you!" that was loud enough to be heard over the crowd who had stopped following the three young men, resuming their whispering.

"Yeah, keep walkin', prick!" Arthur replied, gaining their attention.

"Arthur…" Merlin quietly cautioned.

Arthur ignored his friend, as he addressed the students who gawked at him like he was on display. "What are y'all looking at?" When confronted, most of the bystanders turned around, most of them finally disappearing into the school building as the first bell rang.

"Arthur, calm down, man," Merlin tried to console his friend as he rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You can't just alienate yourself from the entire school."

"I'm not," Arthur said, turning around catching his breath. "It's just… they don't know what happened. I'm not fixing to let Roger malign me. Not a single one of them know what Roger did to Guinevere." Arthur ran a hand over his face, trying to suppress the anger that was boiling inside of him yet again.

"Class doesn't start for another five minutes. You need to calm down by then."

"No."

Merlin looked at his friend, confused. "No?"

"You know what, Merlin? I have the next two classes with all three of those bastards, and I don't feel like putting up with them or their posse today."

Merlin momentarily paused, already following Arthur's train of thought. "What are you getting at, exactly?" he asked, just to clarify.

"You wanna play hooky with me today?" Arthur asked with a mischievous smile. "I mean… what harm will one day do?"

Merlin immediately smiled as well, not giving the proposal a second thought. "Hell yeah! I don't feel like school today either."

Arthur slung an arm around his best friend. "You've always been my partner in crime."

"Nah, I just stopped resisting after a while."

* * *

><p>After the two friends decided to skip classes for the day, they stopped at a diner for a large breakfast. There they ate like kings, and Arthur left the attractive waitress a generous tip. Afterwards they went to the park to walk the large meal off; however they couldn't resist buying some ice cream from a local parlor along the way. Now, they both lay on their backs, appreciating the relative silence and serenity of the park.<p>

"Are your parents back from their pilgrimage to Rome yet?" Arthur asked, resting a hand on his full stomach.

Merlin shook his head. "No, they'll be home in like three days, I think. Then in two weeks they're off to Ireland."

"For what?"

Merlin thought a moment. "I'm not really sure, actually."

"I wish my father was travelling throughout Europe or the Mediterranean all the time like your parents do."

"No you don't. At least you get to see your father."

"Is that before or after the business trips and company dinners? Or is it between the time he spends barricaded in his office in complete solitude?" Arthur snorted before continuing. "And when he_ does_ step down from 'high society' or venture outside of his little abode, it's only to yell at me, and remind me of what a failure I've been. Sure, we have our good times… but there are occasions where I just wish that he wasn't there."

"Morgana would miss him, though."

"Those two are like peas in a pod; she's the apple of his eye. You know that."

"He loves you too, Arthur," Merlin turned his head to look at his friend, who kept his gaze on the extremely blue sky, and the cotton-candy clouds rolling by.

Arthur grunted gutturally. "He has a great way of showing it. Anyway, I don't want to talk about him anymore… We're supposed to be having fun, remember?"

"Alright… What do you want to talk about, then?" Merlin asked, looking up at the clouds as well.

_Oh, I have my ideas…_ "Oh, nothing really."

"G-Gwen," Merlin fake-coughed to hint the name that had undoubtedly been on Arthur's mind.

Arthur quickly turned on his side, aiming an icy glare at his pestering friend. "What was that? 'Cause to me, it sounded like a coward disguising what he _really_ wants to say."

"Oh no—you definitely heard me," Merlin replied, deciding not to back down this time.

Arthur looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about, _Merlin_."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yes you do. Arthur, you don't just beat the crap out of a friend for someone who means nothing to you."

"She's a woman; it was my duty to protect her," Arthur replied with the rehearsed response he had been giving everyone lately. He really didn't want to have this conversation with Merlin right now. There were too many things that he hadn't sorted out himself, things he didn't wish to share with his probing friend.

"Oh, don't bullshit me, Arthur! Why can't you be honest with me?"

"I am, and I don't appreciate you insinuating that I…"

"Look!" Merlin exclaimed, sitting up from the excitement. "You can't even finish your sentence! I've known you nearly all my life Arthur; you can't hide things from me."

_Can't he just drop it for once! I don't want to talk about Guinevere… I've been thinking of her way too much anyway._ "Merlin, will you just shut up!" Arthur suddenly yelled as he too sat up. "I don't want to talk about her, okay!"

"Hey, you're the one getting all defensive here. I'm just sayin' that—"

Arthur jumped to his feet, finally having enough of Merlin's pathetic attempt at subtle interrogation. "I like her, okay! Are you happy now? Can you just shut the hell up, and leave me alone about it!" Arthur was nearly out of breath as he quickly rushed out the confession Merlin had been fishing for.

A bright smile stretched across Merlin's pale face, which made Arthur think that he was deranged. "I knew it, I knew it, I_ knew_ it!"

Arthur nearly cringed at the smugness on his friend's face. "Now don't get any ideas, _Merlin_. I like her as a _friend_. I mean how could I not? She's sweet, engaging, witty, and gentle. I was wrong about her—she is strange, but in a good way: she's her own person. And to my horror, I enjoy her company. She's like no one I've met before. But… things shouldn't be like this, I shouldn't…"

Merlin believed everything Arthur had said, but suspected that his friend was in denial. "Arthur, we're best friends right?"

"That's a dumb question."

"I'll take that as a 'yes', so I'll be…candid with you."

"I'd rather you didn't." Arthur admitted truthfully; God only knew what Merlin would say next to make him even more uncomfortable.

"I think you do like Gwen… but as more than a friend. Unless the definition of friendship changed a lot over the past week or so…" When Merlin saw the maniacal look emerge on Arthur's face, he quickly put his hands up to elaborate. "And there's nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with what you're feeling. She's a sweet and attractive girl; one you can't push around. I think you like that about her."

Arthur raised his eyebrows: where was Merlin getting all this audacity? "Don't be thick, Merlin! There's _everything_ wrong with that! She's a maid… a _colored_ woman." Arthur felt perspiration developing on his forehead, and he hoped Merlin couldn't detect the distress he was putting him through. "Me and Guinevere…" Arthur took a deep breath. "That's like a cat falling in love with a dog."

Merlin's eyes widened, as he looked up at Arthur who looked like he was ready to begin pacing. "What! Wait! Who said anything about _love_?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed at his friend. "Merlin! Can you just shut up? There's no way in hell that I could have romantic feelings for a colored!"

"You're the one who said it…" Merlin replied softly, well aware that Arthur was about to snap.

"Even the thought alone disgusts me." Arthur took a moment of pause to choose the appropriate words for what he wanted to convey, something that was becoming increasingly difficult. Now, I don't know why you're hell bent on trying to prove that I care for her… but I don't!" _Even though yesterday I did tell her that I did… but Merlin doesn't need to know that._

Merlin put his hands up, startled by Arthur's sudden and vibrant reaction. "Calm down, okay! I just think you're not being honest with yourself. There's nothing wrong with having feelings for a colored woman."

"Oh, like you would know, Merlin!"

"You're right; I don't have first-hand experience. But Gwen is a human being, a very lovely one in fact. And I think you two would be good for one another, like compliments. But hey, just keep kidding yourself; just know that you're not fooling me."

The only thing Arthur could do was stare at his friend, feeling naked and vulnerable after Merlin's spot-on analysis. It was like his friend could see into his very soul, or read his private thoughts… as if he had magic. But Arthur didn't want to talk about his feelings right now for they frightened him, both their nature and intensity. Merlin could never understand how he felt, ever. His friend saw the glass half full in every situation, and now he was over simplifying the circumstances.

Arthur took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions, which were quickly unraveling; he needed to change the subject. "Let's head over to my house, and maybe go for a horse ride."

"To the pond?" Merlin asked, perking up.

"Yeah… to the pond," Arthur replied, finally content that they were no longer talking about Gwen. Nonetheless, she was the only thing on his mind whilst driving home.

* * *

><p>Arthur and Merlin drove to the Pendragon Estate in their separate cars. While Merlin had his radio booming, Arthur drove in silent reflection. He stepped out of his car with a newly lit cigarette dangling from his lips as Merlin followed suit.<p>

"I could really use a ride right now," Arthur admitted.

"Yeah me too. It's been a while."

"Too long. But I don't think Autumn is rusty. Francis has been taking good care of him," Arthur replied, referring to the man in charge of the stables. The two silently jogged up the front steps, when Merlin stopped Arthur at the top.

"It's only one o'clock. What's our excuse for being back so early?"

It didn't take Arthur longer than a heartbeat to come up with a fib; he was an expert after all. "Our professor was feeling ill, so he let the class out early, simple."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "I should be disturbed by how quickly you came up with that lie…"

Arthur simply shrugged as they finally stepped inside the quiet mansion. A couple servants were scrubbing the white tile of the foyer bent on their hands and knees. They looked up, pausing from their chore to greet the two young men.

"Afternoon Master Arthur, Master Merlin," they parroted, nearly in unison.

"Afternoon," Merlin beamed as Arthur gave them a simple nod. The two made their way around the servants as they rushed up the steps so they could change out their clothes. Arthur had kept an eye out for Gwen, but to his dismay he hadn't seen her on the ground floor. Perhaps it was best that he didn't; at least not with Merlin around to analyze his every move.

"You know where your clothes are, Merlin." Arthur called out, referring to the guest room, which practically belonged to Merlin. He had several sets of clothing stored in the room in case he spent the night, or decided to go on a horse ride with the Pendragons. The Estate had become Merlin's second home since his own was usually empty.

"Alright, I'll be back in a second!" Merlin yelled as he ran upstairs to the third floor, the same hall that lead to Uther's room, and two other guest quarters.

Arthur walked into his room, closing the door behind him, relieved that he didn't have to suffer through classes today. A good ride was exactly what he needed to clear his head. He quickly changed out of his school attire, and met Merlin at the bottom of the stairs. Both in appropriate riding clothes, they began to make their way to the French doors, which opened up onto the patio.

"Arthur, is that you boy?" Stella called out cornering the two young men.

Arthur slowly turned around, his muscles tensing involuntarily as Stella stood in front of him. "Hey, Merlin," she greeted him with a nod.

"How are you doing, Stella?" Merlin asked with a bright smile.

"Oh, I'll be dandy once I hear what y'all are doing back so early?" she asked, turning to Arthur, waiting to see what excuse he would concoct this time. "Make it a good one, Arthur," she warned him, already aware of the young man's wondrous abilities.

Arthur didn't miss a beat, reciting his lie: "Well, the professor was feeling ill. So he let us out of class early, and—"

"Oh, just save it." Stella put her hand up to stop Arthur as she rolled her eyes. "You better hope your daddy doesn't find out. That's _just_ what you need." She observed the two, shaking her head in reproach before she left.

Arthur turned his attention to Merlin who was snickering quietly at how Stella saw through his friend's deception in a flash.

"Shut up Merlin," Arthur commanded as he stepped out onto the large back patio.

"Hey, I'll race you to the stable!" Merlin exclaimed excitedly, propositioning the familiar challenge once Arthur had closed the doors.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't be so childish… plus I'd win anyway."

"You're just saying that 'cause you hate losing."

Arthur smiled before rushing out: "One, two, three; go!" Before Merlin knew it, Arthur was racing down the hill, and he took off as well in an attempt to catch up. Arthur turned around as he ran, laughing as Merlin began to gain on him.

"You cheater!" Merlin yelled, as he got closer to Arthur.

Several servants doing yard work jumped out of harm's way as the two boys raced to the end of the hill where the stables lay. Finally, Arthur reached the large stable first, resting his hand on a post for support. Moments later, Merlin stood next to him, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

"You… are… a cheater!"

"Hey, you wanted to race!" Arthur laughed. "Don't propose the challenge if you're not up to it."

"Mr. Pendragon, is that you?" Francis, the stable manager, called before walking out of the stables. "Why, you're back early," the large man remarked with a hint of surprise. He rubbed his hands on a rag that dangled from his soiled jean overalls, giving Arthur a quick handshake.

"How are you, Francis?" Arthur smiled on seeing the friendly man.

"I'm blessed. And you, sir?"

"Just fine, thanks. Merlin and I came for a ride."

Francis quickly waved to Merlin before continuing. "That's a fine idea, real gorgeous weather we're having. I'm sure Autumn has been aching for a ride. We went on a quick one today, and I brushed him down of course."

"Ah, keeping the stables in good order as usual?"

"I try," the man beamed. "Do you need help with anything else?"

Arthur looked quickly at Merlin, who had remained silent. "No, thanks."

Francis nodded at the two young men, turning around to give them some privacy.

"Oh, Francis!" Arthur called out, stopping the large man in his tracks.

"Sir?"

"Go on, and take the rest of the day off."

The tall and lanky man looked around, sure he had misunderstood the young man. "Off, you said? I don't mean to argue… but it's only past one, sir."

"No, I insist, Father won't mind. It's a big feast day today, isn't it?" Arthur paused, thinking for a few moments, before he snapped his fingers once he finally remembered. "The Visitation, it's the feast day of the Visitation."

Francis blinked a couple of times, surprised that Arthur would remember the occasion. "Indeed, sir, it is."

"Wonderful. Go home early; get your kids ready for Mass. Spend the rest of the day with your family."

Francis looked at Arthur for several moments, surprised that the young man would propose such an offer. "Thank you, sir, I'll do just that! Jill will be happy to see me home so early. Thank you so much." Francis didn't linger for another second, not wanting to risk the chance of the young Pendragon changing his mind.

Once the horse-handler was out of sight, Merlin finally broke his silence. "How'd you remember the feast day?"

"I have a calendar in my room. Father may have turned his back on the Church, but Mom was devout… I do it for her."

Merlin nodded, understanding as he walked with Arthur into the stable.

"Who are you taking out today?" Arthur asked, picking up Autumn's saddle.

"Maybe my old friend Caspian," Merlin said, walking to the horse's stall.

Silently the two prepared their horses for riding, with Merlin finishing first. He led Caspian out of the stable, ready to get moving. "What's taking you so long Arthur?" he called out impatiently, the blazing sun burning a hole into his back.

Arthur walked out of the stable too, brushing his pants. "Sorry, I'll hurry." Arthur quickly turned to retreat to the stable, when he pivoted his head to address Merlin. However, behind his friend on horseback, Arthur's vision focused to the top of the hill where Gwen stood, speaking with Clarence. Arthur couldn't help the sudden paralysis that took over his muscles as he watched Gwen put her head back, laughing sweetly at whatever Clarence was saying. Arthur smiled to himself as a most genius and romantic plan dawned on him.

"Hey Merlin," Arthur began, as he walked over to Caspian, rubbing him as he spoke. "I actually forgot my sunglasses inside the house."

Merlin groaned loudly, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. "I'd give you mine, but it's too bright out."

"Yeah, I know. It's blazing out here, don't wait on my account; you go on to the pond, and I'll meet you there."

"You sure? I can wait if you hurry."

"Yeah, I might take a while. Go ahead."

Merlin wanted to get out of the heat as soon as possible, so he didn't argue with his friend. "Alright, I'll see you soon, then." Merlin gave Caspian a quick nudge, and moments later the horse was in full throttle towards the forest.

Arthur waited until his friend completely disappeared behind the nearby hill, before he made his way back up towards the patio where Gwen and Clarence stood. He quickly ran a hand through his hair, making sure that he wasn't too messy. Once he reached the top, he saw Gwen and Clarence watch him in silent anticipation as he approached. The tall chauffer tipped his cap in greeting, as Gwen nodded subtly, and politely.

"Guinevere, good afternoon," he greeted her with a smile, completely ignoring the chauffer.

Clarence quickly looked at his watch, handing the glass Gwen had just given him back to her."I have to go pick up Mr. Pendragon, and take him to a meeting. Have a good afternoon, sir, Gwen."

"Bye Clarence. Come talk to me later, okay?" Gwen excitedly reminded the chauffer.

"Will do."

Gwen watched Clarence leave as she put the glass half full with lemonade down on the small table. "Arthur, you're back awfully early."

Arthur noted that she was calling him by his first name with ease, and he liked it. "I played hooky today with Merlin. Just wasn't in the mood today."

Gwen smiled at his honesty, before noting his attire. "Where are you off to?"

"Horseback riding… that's why I'm here, actually."

Gwen rose her eyebrows, unsure what that meant exactly. "That's why you're _here_?" she asked pointing to the ground.

"You said a while back that you had never seen a horse, except in pictures."

Gwen's face did little to mask her surprise that Arthur had remembered.. "Yeah… that's right."

"Come with me to the stables then."

"Excuse me?"

"I'll show you the horses." Gwen remained silent, and immediately Arthur felt rejected, regretting his 'plan'. "You don't have to, I just thought—"

"No, I'd love to!" she nearly yelled, all of a sudden giddy with anticipation. "But I have work to do, I can't right now," she remembered sadly.

"Nonsense, it's just for a minute," Arthur goaded, smiling again.

Gwen looked inside the house, before agreeing with a nod of her head. Her blond companion contained his excitement as he led her down the hill, towards the stables. Halfway down the hill however, it became steeper, so he offered her his hand for balance. She gladly accepted, grasping tightly as he led her slowly to the bottom.

On the way he stole quick glances at her, the sheer excitement on her face made him feel warm all over, happy that he had the privilege to share this primary experience with her. They both stopped outside of the stable before Arthur encouraged her to step in.

"C'mon Guinevere," he goaded, pushing her by the small of her back. "Don't mind the smell… you get used to it."

Gwen giggled, for she was just about to comment on just that. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dimness of the stable, as she heard the unfamiliar sounds of the horses. "Where are you going?" she asked, as she watched Arthur continue walking to the end of the large stable.

"Come here," he gently encouraged her.

Gwen took her time, looking at the three other horses that were in separate stalls. They were much larger than she had anticipated, and their eyes were so great, that they startled her at first. She finally came to stand next to Arthur, who reached over the wooden stall door, taking hold of Autumn's leather reins.

"This is Autumn," he introduced his favorite horse to Gwen, whilst patting the animal's muscular shoulder. "Like I said, he's the fastest horse in this stable… and the kindest." Arthur let go of the reins, brushing his hands on his pants to clean them. "Do you want to pet him?"

Gwen's eyes immediately widened in fright as she took small step backward. "I couldn't, I'm afraid I'll hurt him. He's beautiful really… but…"

Arthur laughed at Gwen's sudden discomfort. "You won't hurt him, I promise."

Gwen took a deep breath, taking the rubber band that was around her wrist as she put her hair up in a ponytail. "Arthur, if he mauls one of my fingers off…"

Arthur chuckled at her sudden irrationality, as he moved toward her. "He won't…trust me."

Giving Arthur a final look of uncertainty, Gwen moved toward the stall, but then remained frozen in her place. Arthur knew she wasn't bound to move any time soon, so he took initiative.

"Here, Guinevere," he whispered as he stood behind her, taking her right hand. He paused, waiting for her to protest his proximity. When she didn't, he gradually moved her hand gently to Autumn's brown middle, his hand still resting on hers. A small smile emerged on Gwen's face as she felt a horse for the first time.

Arthur let go of her hand as he moved his own to the horse's neck, showing Gwen how to stroke him properly. She followed suit, giggling as Autumn nickered at her touch.

"See, he's gentle," Arthur smiled at Gwen's comfort.

"They're so much larger than I imagined. And he's so muscular." She slowly moved her hand to the horse's deep black crest, his hair running through her fingertips like smooth silk.

Arthur moved his hand from Autumn's neck, sticking it in a pocket, as he watched Gwen interact so tenderly with the horse who expressed his content. In that instant Arthur had wanted to take a picture of her, so he could perfectly encapsulate this moment, and remember it forever. The joy on her features was so beautifully displayed, that to him that she appeared to be serene; with the subtlest yet brightest smile gracing her radiant face. Arthur decided that he should move away from her, before he got any further ideas.

However, Gwen turned to him, their faces mere inches away from one another. "Arthur, would you tell me about him, please?"

He took a deep breath, contemplating where to begin. "Well, we bought Autumn as a newborn from some friends of ours who are world-renown horse breeders. He's seven years old, and the best horse I've ever owned. He loves apples and carrots, and I think he has a crush on Luna; Morgana's horse."

Gwen laughed at the last statement. "No one can deny his beauty ..."

_Nor yours… _Arthur thought, suddenly regretting his decision to bring Gwen here; he should have known his own character better. He was completely alone with her, in a setting where he was the most comfortable and she was completely unfamiliar with, creating the perfect opportunity for him to be in control. _You fucking prick! Can't you resist your urges; at least for _one_ girl? At least with her?_ Though his thoughts reprimanded him, Arthur couldn't budge from Guinevere's side. Neither of them had moved from their original positions. Gwen stood rubbing Autumn as Arthur stood behind her, contemplating what he would do next.

While she was enjoying her first experience, Arthur was battling a prevalent sin—his lust. He should've known that it was a bad idea to bring her down here where they would be alone for … God only knew how long. He didn't want to make even _further_ advances, and inevitably taint her as he had done to so many other girls before. She was already special to him, and for once he wasn't thinking solely about his selfish desires. Yet, for the life of him, Arthur Pendragon _still_ couldn't compel his legs to move.

"I think he likes you, Guinevere," he said softly, instead.

Gwen laughed as she finally took her hand off of Autumn, resting it at her side. "Arthur, I can't begin to thank you enough for bringing me down here, it was too sweet, really. But I think I've spent far too much time away from the house. I have work to do." Gwen admitted, waiting for his response. She turned quickly to Arthur, miscalculating exactly how close he was to her. She bumped into his chest with a soft thud, startled at their proximity. Gwen looked up, mildly startled, to find Arthur's blue eyes gazing down at hers; she wanted to squirm.

"Arthur, I have to go now." Gwen said for the second time, clearing her throat.

"Guinevere," Arthur began, moving a hand to her upper arm to prevent her from moving. "Don't go, not yet." Despite his internal conflict, Arthur didn't want this opportunity to pass him by; he had no idea when the next opportunity would arise for him to be with her like this...maybe never.

Gwen remained silent, for she was convinced that she would be incapable of voicing a coherent response. The way he said her name completely turned her thoughts, and previous objections to mush.

Once Arthur saw that Gwen had no intention of leaving, he slowly raised his right hand, gently pushing a stray curl from her face. Everything about her screamed out to him, and he just couldn't resist his attraction to her anymore; so much for _just friends_. Yet, neither averted their gaze as Gwen felt Arthur's large hand securely wrap around her own. Slowly, Arthur bowed his head to finally claim her lips for his, closing his eyes in anticipation—

"Arthur! Arthur, where are you?"

Gwen and Arthur both looked up with a start, each looking at the stables entrance. Morgana could be heard screaming her lungs out for her cousin, and she was quickly nearing.

Arthur restrained himself from voicing a strain of frustrated explicatives as he felt Gwen's small body untangle from his grasp. And then it was over. "Guinevere, wait!" Arthur called out. However, Gwen wouldn't hear any objections, for she quickly exited the stables, and moved towards the sound of Morgana's voice. Her heart threatened to pound a hole through her rapidly moving chest, as her oxygen supply felt extremely restricted. She felt so disoriented and lightheaded as she reached the top the hill,that the maid nearly ran into the lady of the house.

"Gwen?" Morgana exclaimed, excited to see her friend, though slightly confused."Do you know where Arthur is? I've been looking everywhere for him." Morgana sighed as she rested a tired hand on her hip.

It took all the willpower Gwen had to catch her breath, and steady her voice. "I think, he may be in the stables."

Morgana sighed, rolling her eyes. "Of course, thanks!" She hurried down the slope, leaving the maid in solitude. Perhaps this was all a dream... or a fantasy? That was beside the point. Surely Arthur hadn't made advances toward her, and surely she hadn't obliged eagerly. For her, the most horrifying part was that she did nothing to stop it! She _had_ let him touch her, if only for a few moments.

_Oh, God. What have I done?_ Gwen began to panic. Always very much in control of her emotions, she looked at the various chairs on the patio, and was sure that she was about to collapse onto one of them. She prized herself for always seeing the realistic side of romance, except for now with Arthur, and earlier Lorenzo. _Oh, no…Lorenzo! What kind of woman have I become? One moment I'm kissing a tender and romantic bus boy, then the next I'm with my boss' son, someone who used to hate me, and we almost kissed! _Gwen finally decided to take a seat, as she lay her hand on her forehead. _Well... Lorenzo and I aren't exactly dating... _she began to rationalize._ Wait, that doesn't matter! It doesn't matter because what just happened with Arthur cannot possibly go any further than it already has. Okay, breathe, breathe… Emotions can overcome people in moments of weakness. You're not a bad person Gwen, and you certainly haven't become loose; it was a mistake. Yes, mistakes happen, this just happens to be a large one. _Gwen calmed down a little, taking in deep breaths. Finally, she was able to compose herself enough to re-enter the house, hoping no one would realize just how long she had been gone, or where she had been off to…and especially with whom.

* * *

><p>Uther had come home early for once, and requested that the cooks prepare dinner for an earlier time than usual. Gwen was thankful that he had done so, for she was able to keep herself busy in the kitchens when they needed an extra hand to have dinner prepared faster.<p>

Uther now sat with his son, niece, and Merlin, carrying on a pleasant conversation with two of the table's occupants. He pushed his plate of roasted duck aside, taking another look at his silent son. He hadn't seen him all day, for he was no doubt avoiding him. Though Uther knew that his son was still cross with him, he was curious as to why Arthur was acting so downcast. "You've been awfully quiet, son," he noted, as he wiped his lips with a linen napkin.

Arthur looked up from his nearly full plate, as he saw three pairs of eyes waiting in anticipation for his reply. "Sorry, I have a lot on my mind. I'm not very hungry actually," Arthur explained, pushing his plate aside as well. He signaled to one of the servants, who stood in the corner of the room, to take his plate away to the kitchen. The rest of the occupants of the dining room silently watched Arthur arise from his chair.

"But you'll miss dessert. Alice prepared your favorite," Uther reminded his son.

"I'll have some tomorrow after dinner. I think I'm just gonna hit the hay. Good night, I'll see y'all tomorrow."

The table mutely observed Arthur as the young Pendragon sullenly left the large dining room; the three of them exchanging concerned looks. Uther turned to Morgana and Merlin, who both thoughtfully stared at their empty plates. "What's wrong with him?"

Merlin simply shrugged; Arthur had been this way since they had gotten home from their ride.

"Probably just tired after a full day of schoolwork," Uther concluded as he signaled a maid to clear the dining room table.

Merlin too stood up, ready to return to his empty house. "Thank you for having me over for dinner, as usual, sir."

"Of course Merlin, any time," Uther immediately replied. "Drive safely."

"Will do, goodnight." Merlin gave Morgana a quick smile before he silently walked outside to his car.

Meanwhile, Gwen was thankful that Alice had finished early, and that they would be going home earlier than usual this particular evening. Alice rambled on about her day as the two women hurried out the employee entrance at the back of the estate to Alice's car. As the older woman jumped into the driver's seat, Gwen's hand lingered on the handle to the passenger door. Out of sheer curiosity, she turned to look in the direction of Arthur's bedroom.

As she looked a little bit closer into the lit room, she saw a part in the deep red drapes, with Arthur standing in the middle. He looked down, no doubt at her, and Guinevere wished she could only get a clear glimpse of his face. She wondered if he felt the same anxiety and confusion that she did. Yet again, the girl reprimanded herself for thinking of Arthur and their encounter at all. Quickly, Gwen tore her gaze from the large window; how had she gotten to this point?

"Come on, girl!" Alice called impatiently, startling Gwen. Without stealing another glance at Arthur, Gwen hurried into Alice's car.

_Title Inspired by: "Tempt Me, Temptation" by A Skylit Drive_


	9. Chapter 9

_Hello everyone! It's been a long time, hasn't it? Well, here's Chapter 9, I hope you all enjoy it. It's a very exciting chapter (in my mind, anyway). If you haven't already, don't forget to add me to your 'Story Subscription', so you can be the first one to read the next chapters! Enjoy, and leave a commet, letting me know what you thought about it. Happy reading._

_YoureAnIllusion_

**Chapter 9: Quelle Surprise**

Gwen sat silently on her knees, yawning as she wiped the perspiration off her forehead. She and Marge had been scrubbing the tiled floor of the foyer nonstop for the past hour, and were now nearly finished with the arduous task. Gwen had been listening silently and patiently to her talkative colleague, who continued to drone on about her husband, and their laundry list of marital problems. Gwen felt compassion for the poor woman, but she wasn't exactly interested in hearing the details of her tumultuous marriage, especially since she knew the man in question so well.

"Men," Marge huffed, leading Gwen to believe that her tirade was finally complete. "The only good thing that's come out of this marriage is them beautiful boys."

Gwen merely nodded, hoping that if she didn't respond, Marge would have no reason to continue.

"What 'bout you, child? A pretty and smart, light-skinned gal like you…I bet the boys come a runnin', and your papa has to beat them off with a stick!" Marge exclaimed vibrantly.

_No, he just threatens them with his double-barrel shotgun._ "No ma'am," Gwen giggled a little. "No boys knocking on my door." _That's because one's in South America, and the other would be chased down if he stepped anywhere near my home._

"Now that's not true! What 'bout that Mexican boy?"

Gwen paused, startled at Marge's reference of Lorenzo. How could she have found out about him? He lived in the Latino neighborhood, which was a good distance from their community. "A Mexican boy?"

"You know who I'm talking 'bout."

Gwen cursed the gossiping church-ladies who were always keeping tabs on the single women of the congregation, and their personal affairs. "Well, his name is Lorenzo, and he's from Chile, not Mexico."

"They all look the same," Marge snorted after giving Gwen a strange look. "Go on then, tell me 'bout him!"

Gwen sighed, knowing full well that Marge would continue to probe until she lost her mind, or told her about Lorenzo. "Well, he's a bus boy at Cid's Diner, but he's training to become a professional boxer." Marge perked up on that note, coaxing a smile from Gwen. "We went on a date, I guess; if you want to call it that. But the day after, he left for Chile to take care of his sick uncle. We're not together, or anything," she emphasized.

"I saw him one day after church… and hot dog, he's a cutie!" The older maid burst out, leaving Gwen to think that everything she had just shared went in one ear and out the other. Gwen smiled as she nodded shyly in agreement.

"D'you miss him?" Marge asked, finally decreasing the volume of her raspy voice.

Gwen paused, thinking for a moment. "I do. It felt as if we had known each other for months, when it had only been a couple of days. He's easily the sweetest person that I've ever met."

Marge smiled, sitting on her knees to watch Gwen as she scrubbed, and continued her description.

"He's kind and thoughtful, a fantastic listener… and he _is_ a cutie. I do miss him, but like I said; we're not together. It was just a date."

Marge raised an eyebrow, as she resisted a snort. "Mhm, so you keep sayin'. But honey, if you're talkin' 'bout him like that, then that must have been one dynamite date. And, if what you're sayin' is true… then I ain't never met a man that fine; if you got him, you sure better hold onto him."

Arthur popped into Gwen's mind for the millionth time that day as she turned away at Marge's last words. '_I must be crazy then. I have someone who is kind and loving, yet for the life of me, I can't get my mind off of a man who is completely unattainable. Lord, what's wrong with me? I'm a walking cliché.'_

Gwen silently continued to clean, praying that Marge wouldn't ask her any more questions about her recently confusing love life. The last thing she wanted was to be reminded of Arthur, for her mind would naturally digress to the events that unfolded yesterday in the stables. Gwen certainly wasn't ready to confront him, and was thankful that she wasn't forced to yet.

"You can go on honey, and finish the rest of your chores. I'll be through with this in a jiffy."

Gwen sat on her knees, rubbing her sore hands. "Are you sure, I can wait a spell?"

"No, get gone," Marge encouraged her gently.

"Thank you, Miss Marge. I owe you one!" Gwen replied joyously, springing up to her aching feet. She took her time up the spiral staircase, stopping on the second floor, where she heard Arthur's shower turn off. The sound of the water startled her, for she was unaware that Arthur was still in the house. '_He must be cutting class again_,' Gwen thought as she entered Morgana's empty room with a sigh.

Dragging her tired feet, Gwen made her way to Morgana's large oak wardrobe and proceeded to hang up some dresses which she had ironed earlier. She changed the sheets of Morgana's canopy bed, and cleaned her bathroom after, singing several hymns meanwhile.

"Lord, I adore your gracious will," Gwen softly sang as she dusted Morgana's dresser. However, her joyful song was cut short, as she heard loud exclamations emanate from Arthur's bedroom across the hall.

A gruff and clear "Son of a bitch!" reached her ears as she slowly made her way to the doorway. Resting on the door's frame, she stuck her head out, wondering what had vexed Arthur so. The swearing began to slow down, but it still continued. There was a small howl of pain amid the string of profanities, propelling Gwen to finally knock on Arthur's closed door.

"Arthur, is everything okay in there?" Gwen asked, putting her ear to the thick door, straining to hear a response.

"It's open!" Arthur called from the other side.

Pushing the heavy door open, Gwen quickly scanned the room, but found it to be empty. "Arthur?"

"Guinevere? I'm in the bathroom."

Gwen quickly walked to the sparkling white bathroom, unsure of what she would find. "I thought I heard—" Gwen stopped in her tracks, a hand flying to cover her mouth, as she saw blood splattered on the ceramic sink and tiled floor. Arthur stood next to the bathtub, with a blood stained washcloth covering his left hand, watching her silently. The maid rushed to his side, holding his bloodied hand. "My stars! Where'd all this blood come from?"

"I was changing the blade of my razor, damn thing," Arthur explained, turning his head to look at the pesky blood laden blade, which lay in the sink. "Sliced my hand right open."

Gwen raised her eyebrows, surprised that such a small blade could do all this damage. "Here, let me help you," Gwen offered as she held onto Arthur's arm.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be fine."

Gwen looked at him, unsure, before finally nodding; he wasn't a little boy. She spun on her heels to exit, before she was halted by Arthur's laughter.

"Wait! Stop! I didn't really mean it, Guinevere," Arthur explained, holding his hand out.

"Why'd you say it then?" Gwen asked. When Arthur didn't respond, she sighed. "Do you have bandages, or something?"

"Yeah, under the sink." Arthur forced himself to turn his head as Gwen bent down to retrieve the gauze and peroxide stored in his bottom cabinet.

The maid stood with her hands full, only to find Arthur staring at a wall in the opposite direction. "What's over there that's so interesting?" She asked, amused.

"Oh, nothing," Arthur quickly responded, as he focused his attention to her once again.

"Ok, let's go sit down." Quietly the two walked back into the bedroom, where Gwen pulled Arthur's desk chair next to his canopy bed. Slowly Arthur sat, trying his best not to get blood on his clothes, but it was too late for that. He looked quickly at his clock, and noted that he'd be tardy for literature class… _oh well_.

Gwen reached for Arthur's left hand without permission, releasing a small gasp as she finally took the towel off of the damaged hand to view the cut. "One blade sure did a lot of harm," Gwen noted, as she pushed the towel so it fell to the floor.

"It's no big deal. I was a little careless, that's all… had a lot on my mind." Gwen looked up at Arthur, about to say something, but changed her mind.

"This may sting a little," Gwen warned, as she coated a cotton ball with peroxide.

Arthur nodded for his permission for her to continue nonetheless. Gwen silently proceeded in cleaning the wound as tenderly as possible. Arthur watched her, expecting Gwen to say something, but she remained mute. He sighed, finally opened up.

"Guinevere, we can't avoid talking about what happened yesterday forever."

Gwen didn't dare look him in the eye, gluing her gaze to his hand which lay in her lap. "Oh, we can't?"

"No, and we shouldn't. In fact, I want to talk about it right now."

"Yeah… well I don't."

"How 'bout later?"

"How 'bout never?" Gwen retorted, losing her patience.

Arthur shook his head. "No. Listen, yesterday… I didn't mean to take advantage of you."

Gwen finally looked up, with furrowed eyebrows. "Arthur, you didn't take advantage of me."

"I… didn't?"

"I don't think so. We just got carried away."

"I agree. But I don't want things to be… awkward between the two of us. I like you a lot, Guinevere. I value your advice and company, and I wouldn't want to lose that."

Gwen suppressed a smile from emerging at his confession. "And you're a good friend, Arthur. Some serious boundaries were crossed yesterday… very quickly."

Arthur paused, swallowing loudly. A good friend? He didn't necessarily like the sound of that. But that matter was for another time. "I know, I know. And it was all my fault."

"It takes two to tango," Gwen stated plainly, as she began to wrap Arthur's clean wound with gauze.

"It won't happen again, I promise."

"Alright, I thank you for being a mature gentleman about this, Arthur."

"Don't go ruining my reputation now," he joked.

"Your secret's safe with me," she guaranteed with a grin.

Arthur nodded silently, observing his hand as Gwen turned it. "You're pretty good at this, you know. Makings of a future nurse?"

"A ten year old could do this, it's nothing really."

"You're always so humble."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"No, it's quite sweet actually." He looked out onto his balcony silently for a few moments.

"What are you thinking about?" Gwen interrupted his reminiscing.

"I was just recalling the time we had our first_ real_ conversation."

She paused. "Do you mean the _actual_ first, or the first time you were kind to me?" She looked up at him with a grin.

"The one on the balcony. Where you told me that you've never seen a horse, and we talked about our families."

"Sure, I remember; why the trip down memory lane?"

"I was just thinking, how quickly things change, you know?"

"Yeah, it's pretty wild."

"I wouldn't have things any other way though." Gwen looked up quickly, before returning her gaze to Arthur's bandaged hand. "Who knew you'd turn out to be the kindest person I've ever met, even after how rotten I was to you?"

Gwen laughed quietly. "I'm not all that. And you weren't that terrible anyway."

Arthur snorted. "You don't have to try and make me feel better."

Gwen simply shrugged. "You acted like most men I come in contact with of… your standing; it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. See, the difference is that you're not _actually_ rotten. You're quite pleasant, once you get past your mild…"

"Arrogance?" Arthur asked, his blue eyes dancing in amusement.

Gwen smiled bashfully. "Now, I didn't say that."

"But you were going to. It's fine, I've been called much worse."

"Also, it's not every day that someone sticks up for you against three bullies. I think that was the day I saw the true Arthur Pendragon."

"The _true_ Arthur Pendragon? Tell me about him, we may get along."

"Well," Gwen began slowly, finally cutting an end to the gauze. "I think you're forced to take on a façade around certain people who come from high society, like you do. But, if they would actually spend time with you, I think they would see a very different you. And you're no racist; trust me, I've known enough. You actually want to gain people's respect, not just inherit the privilege, plus you have a sound conscience. I mean, you took the time to get to know _me_, and that's saying a lot." Gwen stopped. "Sorry, I'm babbling, aren't I?"

The only reaction Arthur could muster was a series of rapid blinks. "I don't know what to say... but Guinevere Gibson, you are something else. I haven't even known you that long!"

"I guess not," Gwen said, as Arthur picked up his hand, examining the dressing. "But, we're comfortable with each other," Gwen looked away. "Which is a little strange… but it's not that hard to pick up these things, you just have to be attentive."

"So, you've been _observing_ me then?"

Gwen smiled to herself, her cheeks taking on color.

"Are you blushing?" Arthur playfully teased.

"No, of course not!" Gwen couldn't help but giggle as she turned away.

"It's alright, I wouldn't blame you, if you were… observing me that is." Arthur winked.

"Oh, brother!" Gwen exclaimed, playfully rolling her eyes.

"What? I have my mother's good looks," Arthur ruefully grinned, his blue eyes sparkling.

Gwen turned in the chair, quickly surveying the room, before her features clouded in confusion. "Arthur, you don't have any pictures of your mother in your room."

Arthur quickly looked away, a pang of guilt stabbing Gwen as he did so. "I'm sorry," Gwen uttered softly.

He rose quickly and quietly, walking to his closet, as Gwen remained seated. Neither said a word as he reached onto an upper shelf.

"Here, I want to show you something, Guinevere," he said pulling down a thick photo album

_We both know what happened the last time you wanted to show me something... _"Okay."

Arthur took a seat on his bed, blowing some dust off of the old beige cover. "Come on then, I don't bite any," he encouraged her, patting the empty space next to him. Gwen rose to sit next to him, as he began to explain what it was he was holding. "Well, like you said, there are no pictures of my mother in my room. But that's 'cause they're all in here. You wanna see some?" Arthur asked a little shyly.

"Oh, Arthur, I'd love to see them," Gwen replied happily.

Arthur gave her a smile before continuing. "You should consider yourself lucky; I hardly show anyone this stuff," he teased, but with a serious tone.

Gwen watched with great anticipation as Arthur opened the large photo album to the middle. "The first ones are old pictures of the family; boring stuff. But here," Arthur pointed to a large, slightly frayed picture. "This is mom at nine, her first communion. She took her faith really seriously, my grandparents wouldn't allow their children to skip Mass unless they were on their death beds." Arthur paused to chuckle, remembering his strict but loving grandparents. "Stella would always tell me stories of how my mom was sort of like a bleeding heart, especially for the poor and widows."

"She sounds like she was a fantastic woman. What was her name?"

"Igraine Harris, it was her family who began "Harris & Mitch Inc."

Gwen took her eyes off of the worn photo, as her eyes widened to the size of saucers. "You mean the petroleum and plastic company?"

Arthur simply nodded, as Gwen let out a whistle. "Hot dog… no wonder you're so rich!" Gwen blurted.

"Yeah, the Harris's came from England in the early eighteenth century, where they built their own plantation from the ground up. But after the War Between the States, they moved onto coal production, and railroads. Afterward, Harris & Mitch cropped up as soon as petroleum and plastic came into demand. Been making a fortune ever since."

"Well, there's nothing like old money, is there?"

Arthur laughed. "I guess not." He flipped a few pages, showing his mother in her latter teenaged years, in a long red gown with a sash and tiara, holding a bouquet of flowers. "This is where she won Ms. South Carolina; the first time."

Gwen leant over to get a better view, as Arthur skipped some more pages.

"This," Arthur took a deep breath, as he ran a quick hand over the picture. "This was taken three days before her death; my birthday."

"She looks so happy." Gwen peered closer at the small picture before laughing.

"What?"

"You were one chubby baby!"

Arthur laughed too. "Yeah, I was really thick until I turned thirteen."

Gwen stopped laughing. "You know, I think she'd be proud of the man you've become."

It was now Arthur's turn to blush at Gwen's compliment. "I don't know… I'd like to think so, though. I don't wanna disappoint her, not anymore at least. I'm through with making the same mistakes without learning any lessons…"

Gwen listened silently to Arthur's cryptic confession, as he closed the photo album slowly. "Thank you so much for sharing this with me, Arthur. I know these pictures are special to you."

Arthur looked down at his bandage, as he shrugged. "I just figured that if anyone would be able to relate to all of that, it'd be you. Because… well, you know."

"Do you want to hear about my mother since you've opened up to me about yours?"

Arthur turned slightly, his knee touching hers. "Of course."

"Alright, I'll make it quick—"

"Take your time, I'm in no rush, literature can wait."

"Okay. Her name was Cecilia Dubose, and she grew up on some white man's farm, where her family rented out a small cottage. My grandparents were both sharecroppers, however Mama became a seamstress; best one in town, even."

"Really? How'd she ever get out'a the sharecropping cycle?"

"I'm not sure really. I was only eight when she died, and I never bothered to ask those sort of questions."

"That's understandable. Sorry, I'm interrupting."

"I couldn't have ever prayed for a better mother. She too was a great woman of faith, she loved goin' to church. She was never embarrassed to dance and sing… she had the voice of an angel." Gwen laughed. "People say I'm her spitting image, but I don't have her chops."

"You're not bad, I've heard you a couple of times," Arthur confessed.

"Thanks, but if you heard her, I'd sound like nails runnin' down a chalkboard. And she never lost her temper with me, nor Elliot, and she loved my Daddy with all her heart. I hope I can be half the wife and mother she was."

"I'm sure you will be, to the man who's lucky enough to catch you."

Gwen playfully snapped Arthur's knee. "Would you stop interruptin' me, Arthur Pendragon!" Gwen jokingly chided. "Well, one night it was storming really badly. When I was little, I used to be afraid of stormy weather, and that night it sounded like the heavens came crashing down. Well, Mama had to go drop off a wedding gown she had finished altering to some rich lady up in North Dearborn. Daddy begged her to wait 'til morning, 'cause the car had been giving problems, and the weather was bad. But Mama said she was already pushing her deadline, and she would lose her commission if she waited any longer. Money was always tight in our house, even with Mama alive. So of course, once Daddy heard that Mama might lose some profit, he had to let her go. He regrets that decision more than anything; her brakes failed at an intersection, and she had a head on collision with a truck."

Arthur gasped. "God… I am so sorry Guinevere."

"I miss her, though it was my Daddy who really took the hard hit. But we're all fine now, you have to adjust and keep on movin'. I mean, at least I got eight years with Mama."

"Yeah."

Silence hovered over the room, as Arthur looked outside at the dark and downcast sky, before Gwen's words took his focus off of the dreary landscape.

"Well, thank you again for sharing those things about your mother with me, and listening about mine."

"Sure. We should do it again sometime," Arthur said, standing.

"I agree." Gwen pointed at Arthur's bandaged hand. "I hope you feel better."

"Thanks for taking care of me."

Gwen simply nodded with a smile, as she turned to leave.

"Oh, bye Guinevere!" Arthur called out, almost as if it was an afterthought. Arthur smiled to himself, happy that Gwen had shared a piece of her life with him. Whistling, he went to put the photo album back on his closet shelf, when he took pause. Flipping towards the end, he took out the picture of his mother cradling him on his birthday. Gingerly, he took it out, and placed it carefully on his desk, giving it a small kiss before he left.

* * *

><p>"Arthur," Merlin whispered harshly to his sleeping friend, who was sprawled on top of his desk. Professor Darthy stood at the front of the amphitheatre-style auditorium, droning on without pause. Both Arthur and Merlin sat in the back, a conveniently fitting place for students who tended to slumber through higher education. "Arthur… you lazy piece of—"<p>

"Hey, watch it," Arthur protested groggily as he finally sat up. Rubbing his face, his vision eventually cleared as he opened his textbook to some random page, hoping Darthy hadn't caught him snoozing.

"Ah, Mr. Pendragon, welcome back to class," Darthy greeted his rarely alert student. The class chuckled, before the professor continued his lecture. Pacing at the front of the room, Darthy pointed at Morgana's raised hand.

"Sir, pardon me, but I'm still confused," Morgana began quietly.

"That's all right. It's a confusing plot."

"Okay, so if—" Morgana began, however she was interrupted mid-sentence as Vivian Remington bolted out of her seat like a rocket. The entire class watched silently as the petite blonde covered her mouth and stormed out of the classroom. Whispering ensued as Darthy looked at the door speechless, unsure of what to do next. He walked to Morgana's desk, lowering his voice to a quiet hush.

"Could you go and check on her, make sure she's alright?"

Morgana nodded quickly. Even after leaving the room, she could still hear whispering buzzing, and the professor telling his students to quiet down. Morgana scanned the deserted hallway, but Vivian was nowhere to be found. The swinging door of the girls' bathroom across the hall caught her attention. She approached the restroom, just as two girls rushed out, clutching their purses, and pinching their noses in disgust.

"Vivian, are you alright?" Morgana called as she stepped into the large bathroom. Vivian voiced no reply, but Morgana saw her standing over one of the sinks. "Are you alright?" Morgana asked again.

After a few moments of coughing, Vivian nodded, covering her mouth. "Bless your heart for coming after me," Vivian thanked Morgana, as she was handed a wet paper towel to blot her face. Vivian looked in the mirror, gasping at her slightly disheveled hair. "I do declare!" she huffed, laying down some golden hair. "I am one righteous mess."

"Your hair's just grand Vivian, but what about the rest of you?"

Vivian waved Morgana off, offering a light chuckle. "It's kind of embarrassing really, and a minor tragedy."

"It's alright, you don't have to—"

"I think I'm becomin' lactose intolerant. I hoped that I wasn't, but there's no denyin' it now." Vivian turned back to the mirror, her hands in her hair. "This morning I had a real tall glass of milk, and some cheese; my stomach has been in knots ever since. How embarrassin'! Me running outta class like that! But I felt like I was about to fall ill," she whimpered.

"We can wait a while, I'm sure Darthy won't be expecting us back anytime soon."

Vivian stopped, and turned to Morgana. "Will you wait with me?"

Morgana tried to stop her lip from curling, regretting that she had said "we". But when she saw Vivian's eyes light up with hope, Morgana didn't have the heart to refuse her simple request. She could shelve her distaste for the girl for five minutes, at least.

"Sure, I'll stay with you."

Morgana had planned to stay for no longer than several minutes, however the girls ended up staying until they heard the final bell ring. If one had walked into the conversation, they would have thought that the two were old friends. Laughing and gossiping, Morgana's previous distaste for the Remington was quickly dissipating. The two were giggling over a joke Vivian had shared, when they heard the students begin to flood the hallway.

"I guess we can leave then?" Morgana asked as she and Vivian began to walk out of the bathroom.

"Morgana, I still have my things in the auditorium."

"I'll wait for you in the courtyard?"

"Sure thing, I'll be through in a jiffy." Vivian turned to cross the hall, quickly walking to her desk in the front. As she stuffed her satchel, she felt a cold finger tap her exposed shoulder. Spinning on her heels, she spun directly into Merlin.

"What do you want?" she nearly snarled, seeing that it was Arthur's geeky friend.

Merlin blinked at Vivian's hostility, as he stated his reason for disturbing her. "I just wanted to see if you were alright, you looked pretty sick."

Vivian stared at Merlin silently, wishing that he would just go away.

"What was wrong?"

"That's none of your business, Merlin."

Merlin's eyes narrowed, as he wondered why he even asked in the first place. "Fine. I was just being friendly." As he turned away, he whispered under his breath: "Something you wouldn't know anythin' 'bout."

"What was that?" Vivian snapped, hand on her hip.

Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but Vivian's attention was caught by someone else. Arthur, with his arms full, was making his way down the aisles, doing his best to avoid Vivian altogether; hoping that Merlin would distract her.

"Arthur," Vivian called, stopping the Pendragon in his tracks. "Don't look so startled now," she joked as she moved to stand in front of her former fling.

Arthur looked at Merlin for help, but the he was already at the door, talking to another student. Arthur sighed, as he turned to face Vivian. "Are you feeling any better now?"

"Oh, I'm just peachy. Thank you for asking, you're too kind."

"Yeah, sure. Did you need something?"

"I've wanted to catch up with you for some time now," Vivian began, looking Arthur in the eye.

"About what, could you make it quick?" Arthur asked shifting his weight impatiently.

"Arthur, why have you been so... distant lately?"

"Vivian, we already discussed this in the parking lot the other day," Arthur cut her off angrily, already anticipating what she would say.

"That incident? You were just hollerin'; nothin' but hot air. You weren't _really_ serious!" Vivian laughed.

Arthur blinked. "Hasn't it crossed your mind that we haven't spoken since?"

Vivian silenced, blinking rapidly. "I've just been letting you cool down, sugar."

"No… I was avoiding you. And I ain't your _sugar_. As a matter of fact, we're done here." Arthur turned his back to Vivian, not giving her another chance to speak. Arthur ignored her calling his name, as he met Merlin at the door, leaving Vivian sulking by her seat.

* * *

><p>Gwen walked with Alice to the kitchen, as Alice shared with her a story about one of her mischievous boys.<p>

"He's such a doll, Miss Alice. You really do have a beautiful family, and you take such good care of them."

"Thank you, honey. I try my best."

"I know you do," Gwen said softly, as the two finally entered the kitchen.

Stella and Marge were already cooking dinner and dessert, chatting loudly as Alice and Gwen walked in. Stella dropped her rolling pin when she saw the two casually enter the steamy room. "What took you gals so long? Supper doesn't cook itself," Stella said, as she handed the two women their aprons.

"Gwen and I were just taking a quick break," Alice explained.

Stella paused, shaking her head before she began. "It ain't break time yet."

"I've been bustin' my back all day long. One itty bitty break ain't nothin'… shoot."

Gwen quietly moved around Alice to wash her hands, not wanting to argue with Stella, who seemed a bit on edge.

"Y'all should've been down here fifteen minutes ago. There's no room for slackers in this household," Stella gave Alice a quick onceover.

Alice stopped, her tone rising a bit. "Excuse me? You callin' me a slacker?"

"What I_ did_ say is that you have no business takin' breaks, when it ain't anywhere near break time yet. You heard me just fine."

"I can take a five minute break any time I want."

"Oh really?"

"Really. I ain't some child that you have any say over; you can't order me 'round like you do Arthur."

Gwen's breath caught in her throat at Alice's last remark. After a beat of silence she watched Stella move from the counter, her mouth in a straight line, her jaw set.

"You better watch yo'self Alice. Don't forget who runs things here."

"Oh, gimme a break. You—"

"Ladies!" Marge finally cut in before Alice had the chance to say anything else and lose her job. "Quit the hollerin'."

"Nobody's hollerin' here, Marge." Stella replied icily, not taking her gaze off of Alice. "I'm just remindin' Alice here that —"

Clarence strolled into the kitchen whistling, before he stopped short. Alice and Stella still captivated each other in a stare off, with Marge between them, and Gwen up against the sink. Clarence looked back and forth, in a futile attempt to analyze the situation. Gwen took initiative, moving to the front of the kitchen as Alice turned away from Stella, and Marge walked back to the stove.

"Clarence, what is it?" Gwen asked tiredly, running a hand through her wavy pony-tail.

"You look real beat."

"I'm fine."

"Good, 'cause there's someone here to see you."

"Me?" Gwen asked confused, pointing to her chest. She waved her hand, figuring that it was Elliot. "Tell 'em I'm working." Gwen paused. "It's Elliot, right?"

"Your brother? No ma'am. Some Puerto Rican fella."

Upon hearing Clarence's brief description, Marge pushed past Stella, to stand next to Gwen. "Is he really muscular, with dark brown hair, and_ the_ prettiest brown eyes?

Gwen looked at Marge, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't take a profile of the guy, dang." Clarence shook his head at Marge's sudden excitement, returning his attention to Gwen. "He said his name is Lorenzo… or somethin' foreign like that. Want me to tell him to go and get lost, Gwen? I'm fixin' to leave anyway."

"No, no! I know him!" Gwen nearly yelled. She looked at Marge, who smiled at her, before moving past the nosy but well-meaning woman, and rushed out of the kitchen. Clarence leapt back to make room for Gwen, as he heard Marge laughing.

"What you laughing at?" Clarence asked, as he took a step away from her. Alice and Stella waited for Marge to gain her composure, both curious as to why Gwen had responded so strongly.

"That boy, Lorenzo, he's Gwen's boyfriend. And he ain't from no Puerto Rico, _Clarence_. He's from… Chile!" Marge snapped, as she remembered the name of Lorenzo's mother country.

Stella sucked her teeth as she began to roll her pie dough once more. "Stop tellin' them lies Marge. Shoot, you probably don't even know where Chile is." Alice and Clarence began laughing as Marge shot them icy glares.

"No! I know what I'm talkin' 'bout. He_ is_ her boyfriend." Marge turned to Clarence, eager to convince him and the two other women that she wasn't telling a tall tale. "He's a real cutie, got lovely brown—I'm gonna go look for myself!"

"Marge! Let them kids be! Stop being so darn nosy," Stella chided as Marge turned her back to her.

"You ain't my mama!" Marge cackled on her way out, with Clarence in tow.

"Wait for me y'all, I wanna see him too!" Alice exclaimed, hustling from behind the counter to catch up with Marge. Stella stood alone in the kitchen, wondering what she would do with her scatter-brained staff.

* * *

><p>Gwen couldn't make her legs move fast enough, as she left the kitchen, rushed past the foyer to the front door. Lorenzo was finally back! His letter had said he may arrive earlier than planned, but he never gave a date. But he was here now! Yet, how did he know to come to the Pendragon Estate? For all he knew, Gwen was still putting up with rude customers and horrible tips at Cid's. As she pulled open the large front doors, Gwen pushed out all of the logistics from her racing mind. From the top of the steps, she could see Lorenzo at the bottom, next the running fountain. His attention was on a cap he was holding, until Gwen called his name from the top of the stairs.<p>

"Lorenzo!" She waved excitedly.

"Gwen!" he called, his face glowing as he caught sight of her.

Gwen ran down the steps, unable to stop the smile illuminating her face as her feet touched down on the hot pavement. Lorenzo met her halfway, opening his arms wide to receive her in a bone-shattering hug. Gwen obliged happily, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

"You look great, I've missed you so much," Lorenzo complimented, laughing as her curls tickled his face.

Gwen let go of Lorenzo, stepping back to take a better look at him. His skin had tanned, giving it a healthy glow, and his hair was no longer past his ears. "You cut your hair… and grew a beard," she giggled, quickly rubbing his cheek.

Lorenzo ran a hand through his short locks, almost as if he had forgotten about their new length. "Yeah, my hair was way too long to survive the heat, and it got in the way when I was training."

"I can't believe you're back so soon!" Gwen said as Lorenzo pulled her in again for another hug. He gave her cheeks a few quick kisses, before she gently pushed him away. "Lorenzo… I work here," she whispered shyly. Lorenzo stopped, but kept a hand on her small waist as he began.

"About that: congratulations?"

"Thanks."

"I went to Cid's yesterday, expecting to find you there. But Marcia told me that you quit, and that you worked here now." Lorenzo took a moment to look at the house, whistling at its grandeur. However, his whistle quickly turned into a chuckle, puzzling Gwen. "It looks like we have an audience," he whispered, as he felt Gwen's muscles tense. Quickly, she turned around to see about five of the staff at the top of the steps observing the two of them and whispering rather audibly. Lorenzo released Gwen's waist as she ran a hot hand over her face.

"How embarrassing!" Gwen looked up to see Alice pointing past the fountain, just as Gwen heard the engines of a couple of cars stop and turn off.

"Who's that?" Lorenzo asked, entwining his hand with Gwen's.

Gwen turned, wondering how much more embarrassing all of this could become, when she saw Arthur and Merlin step out of one car, and Morgana out the other.

"Who are they?"

"That's my boss...well sort of. His name is Arthur." Gwen quickly whispered.

"_That's_ Arthur Pendragon? I've heard about him, _not good things though_…" Gwen quickly nudged Lorenzo in the ribs, cautioning him to quiet down.

Gwen gulped as Morgana approached the two first, her lipstick red lips curving into a wide grin. "Gwen, who do we have here?" she asked, as Arthur and Merlin stood next to her, all three standing across from the pair.

Arthur had noticed a couple embracing next to the fountain as he drove up the long driveway with Merlin in the passenger seat. However, it wasn't till he was much closer, did he notice that it was in fact Guinevere with some man he had never seen before, locked together in a rather intimate embrace. Involuntarily, his hands gripped the steering wheel, and Merlin had to remind him that the wheel hadn't done anything to offend him. Arthur mustered all of his self-control, so as not to rip the driver's door off of its hinges, and run to pull the couple apart. Luckily for this visitor, Arthur walked out of his car with Merlin, telling himself that this man could be a family member… and it was not his place to meddle.

Nevertheless, any previous false reassurance was quickly washed away when Arthur watched Lorenzo squeeze Gwen's hand affectionately. The swift and subtle motion thrust a thousand daggers of anger and betrayal straight through Arthur's heart, as he looked at Gwen, confused and hurt. He looked back and forth at the two, as he blinked in confusion.

The maid noted Arthur's sad eyes and quickly wiggled free of Lorenzo's rough hand. Gwen cleared her throat as Lorenzo gave her a strange look; silence hovering over the group.

Morgana took mental inventory of everyone's expressions, before deciding to speak up and break the awkward and somewhat tense silence.

"I reckon you're Lorenzo?"

Lorenzo nodded, shaking Morgana's hand and offering her a rather forced smile.

"I figured as much. I feel like I know you already! Gwen here has told me so many good things about you."

Merlin glanced uneasily at Arthur, who he knew was doing his best to stay calm.

"So, Gwen tells me that you're a fantastic boxer? And that you've been in Chile these past weeks?"

"Well, I don't know about _fantastic, _but I have been in Chile."

"And your uncle, how is he?"

Lorenzo turned to Gwen with a bashful smile. "She really does talk a lot about me, huh?" When Gwen voiced no reply, Lorenzo addressed Morgana once again. "He's much better, thank you for asking. I came back only two days ago." Lorenzo turned to Gwen, giving her a smile. "I thought I'd see Gwen yesterday at work, but I was informed that she works here. I would've come sooner had I known."

Arthur voiced a quiet grunt, which didn't go unnoticed by Morgana or Merlin; the latter kept his focus on a pebble, not wanting to prolong the conversation by speaking.

"Well Lorenzo, I hope we meet again, it was a treat to put a face to the name. You're even more handsome in person," Morgana winked, coaxing Arthur's eyes to roll. Gwen laughed at Morgana's minor flirtation as Lorenzo did the same.

Arthur was finally unable to maintain his silence. He thrust his right hand in Lorenzo's direction, giving him a rather firm handshake. "I'm Arthur Pendragon, Morgana's cousin."

Lorenzo looked back and forth to try and find a resemblance, but he found none. "Nice to meet you as well. I feel like I'm meeting royalty, and I'm at a great palace. The Pendragons are the face of the town."

"Oh, don't remind him!" Morgana bantered, motioning towards Arthur. She feigned a whisper in Lorenzo's direction. "His head is big enough already."

Arthur ignored his cousin as he rested his hand at his side, resisting the urge to brush it off on his khakis. "Say Lorenzo, Gwen has told me _so much_ about you." Arthur took a deep breath as Lorenzo looked at Gwen happily, who was becoming increasingly antsy. "It seems like everything she said is true. Great girl, isn't she?"

Morgana clutched her purse nervously, as Merlin ran a hand through his dark locks.

"She sure is – the kindest and most honest person I've ever met."

Arthur resisted throwing his head back in a maniacal laugh. "Yeah… she sure is honest." Gwen didn't look away from Arthur, instead he could tell that she too was resisting exhibiting just how irritated she was.

Lorenzo cordially laughed, before continuing. "I've gotta jet now. Nice meeting you all." Lorenzo turned to Gwen, quickly. "I'll stop by your house later, okay?"

"Alright," Gwen said a little too quickly.

"See ya." Lorenzo gave Gwen a quick peck on the cheek.

Arthur rolled his eyes, turning away from the sickening lovebirds, unable to keep up the pretences for another moment. Hastily, he jogged up the steps, with Morgana and Merlin watching and Lorenzo returning to his car.

Arthur wanted to lash out, and the idling staff happened to be in the zone of his radar at the top of the steps. "Don't y'all have work to do?" he snapped, startling the small audience. After a few more whispers, the servants quickly retreated into the house. Merlin stood next to Arthur, resting a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder; however, it was shaken off violently in an instant. "Don't, Merlin—and don't follow me either!"

He jogged up the steps, opening the front door with such ferocity, Merlin suspected that it would be off of its hinges. Wincing at Arthur's reaction, Merlin turned to look at Morgana and Gwen, who remained at the bottom of the steps.

_Title Inspired by: "Quelle Surprise" by Enter Shikari (good song)_


	10. Chapter 10

_Oh…my…gosh! I'm so relieved to finally publish this! It's a little shorter than usual, but 11/12 are decent sizes. Boy, I hope you all aren't too angry that I haven't posted in a while, but I had a ton of summer reading I had to do. And I had to do some really major edits to this chapter (and even bigger ones to 11). Leave a comment, tell me what you thought about it. Don't forget to add me to your story alert if I'm not already, so you can read my chapters as soon as I publish it ;)_

_P.S.: Out of curiosity, I'm wondering which chapter is your favorite so far and why. Leave it in your comment if you are so moved :)_

**Chapter 10: Face Like Thunder**

Arthur should have felt some sense of relief as he escaped the unbearable Southern heat, and entered the cool foyer. However, the only thing he could feel was the weakening of his knees, as they threatened to buckle beneath his weight. His heart was beating a mile a minute, with his head feeling like someone had taken a jack hammer to it. His body was begging him to sit down; but he refused. If he didn't keep moving, Merlin would undoubtedly catch up with him, and pester him to no end. Arthur Pendragon needed to be alone… at least for a little while.

He had just found out that the woman he cared about was not the saint that he had thought she was. His thumping heart was frozen with bitter betrayal as he jogged up the spiral staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

_Betrayal? Stop being so selfish, you don't have any claim on her! And you never will._ Arthur's rational reminders where quickly forgotten as he reached his bedroom, slamming his door with all his might. He stood idly in the middle of his room, chest heaving, as he contemplated what to do next. Part of him felt like throwing something, and watching it shatter into a thousand pieces. However, he wanted to march back downstairs, and tell Gwen how he really felt. Or perhaps he'd march down to Lorenzo's house, and show him the skills of a _true_ fighter…that option was the most appealing at the moment.

Arthur snorted as he remembered how Lorenzo was able to hold Gwen so freely, and express his sentiments towards her without any restraints, or the fear of condemnation; if only he were so lucky. But he knew nothing about this friendly foreigner; it was Gwen who had misled him. His advances had been quite obvious as of late, and she had led him to believe that she too was interested. Why else would she listen to his problems, wrap his cut hand, or open up about subjects near to her heart? Instead, she had let him make a fool out of himself, and get his hopes up, only to have them crushed by a Latino bulldozer.

_Oh, get over yourself, you prick. You've done the same thing plenty of times before. Maybe God's allowing you to feel the same pain you've inflicted on so many girls._ Arthur shook his head violently, not wanting to think of the possibility of Divine Reckoning. As he began pacing, his bedroom door swung open, without so much as a knock to preclude. Of course, it was Merlin who had rudely intruded, looking like a deer in headlights as he watched Arthur run a hand over his sweaty face.

The lanky brunette took a deep breath, not sure what he could say to make his friend feel better. He closed the door softly, before speaking. "Jeez…I'm sorry Arthur," he began, stepping farther into the room.

Arthur turned his back to his meddlesome friend, resting his shoulder on a window pane as he fixed his sight on nothing in particular.

"Didn't I tell you not to follow me?"

"I wanted to see if you were alright…but I know you're not."

"Bingo! Good job Merlin!" Arthur snapped sarcastically. "What tipped you off, buddy?"

Merlin ignored the sarcasm, which he expected to be in full force. "Arthur, I know how you must feel."

Arthur spun with a swiftness and ferocity that made Merlin take a step back involuntarily. "No, Merlin! You don't know how I feel! Okay? So just piss off."

Merlin took a step closer to his friend despite the outburst. "We're friends, you can talk to me; get it off your chest."

"Merlin, I don't think you heard me!" Arthur pointed at his shut door. "Get the hell out of here! I want to be alone right now, I don't want to deal with your shit."

"My shit?" Merlin asked confused.

"All your questions! I don't want to hear a word of it."

"I just want to talk with you."

"Yeah, well I'm not in a talkin' mood," Arthur grumbled, finally lowering his decibel level.

"You know, after that little stunt down there, it's obvious that there's something going on with you and Gwen." Merlin stated, cutting to the chase while he still had the time.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Arthur denied, shaking his head.

"Oh, please! It's nearly obvious; a blind man could see it. I know you must be hurt, seeing Gwen with someone else. And I'm sorry that she wasn't honest with you, really I am. But keeping these things locked up is only destructive. Just say what you feel!"

"Merlin, I can't!" Arthur bellowed. "How am I supposed to admit that I feel for Guinevere, what I haven't felt with any other woman before? Or that I'm falling in love with someone who couldn't possibly love me back?" Arthur looked away sadly, as his throat went dry. He took a deep breath, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

It seemed that Arthur was now in a talking mood, and Merlin didn't want to stop him. "Why can't she, Arthur?"

"Merlin, look at me! Look around for once!" Arthur exclaimed angrily, opening his arms. "I'm her total opposite! She couldn't possibly want me. And even if she did, we could never be. I can't just go and rewrite damn history, or change our society. Not only am I the richest guy in town and she hardly has a penny to her name …but I'm white and she's colored; that's even worse. We come from two completely different worlds…worlds which could never be reconciled. I couldn't even _dream_ of walking down the street with her, holding hands like other couples can." Arthur paused, turning away from his friend once again. "And Merlin…that hurts, more than _you_ could ever imagine. Lorenzo," Arthur pointed out the covered window, "he can be with her. And I fucking hate his guts for it."

As Merlin listened to Arthur spill his aching heart out, his own saddened tremendously for his friend. He had no idea that Arthur had been dealing with such turmoil, some of the points he had mentioned had never crossed his mind. And love? He was falling in love with Gwen? Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur wasn't finished.

Arthur laughed to himself sarcastically. "You know, I've just been kidding myself all along. Hoping maybe Guinevere and I could have a shot if—"Arthur stopped, shaking his head. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. And Guinevere's a free woman, she can do whatever the hell he wants…but it doesn't make this a smaller pill to swallow. I think I'm out of my mind…"

"No, Arthur, you're finally making perfect sense!" Merlin exclaimed, the happiness in his voice unsettled the disgruntled Arthur. Even though the all of the odds are against you—"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Wow, thanks Merlin."

Merlin ignored the interruption. "You thought she's worth it; and you still do."

"What are you trying to say, Merlin?"

"If you care for her as much as you say you do, you wouldn't just throw in the towel."

"I'm not 'throwing in the towe. It's just, I'm angry…no, I'm mad as hell!"

"At who?"

Arthur thought for a moment. "At myself, for thinking that Guinevere wouldn't be someone else's girl; I just assumed like a moron. I'm mad at her; sure she's cute and naïve, but she aint a cold rock. She must know how I feel about her; I've made it pretty damn obvious. Especially at the stables—"

Merlin raised his dark brows. "What happened in the stables?"

Arthur shook his head. "I really don't want to think or talk about it."

Merlin relented; Arthur was doing a good job of opening up as it was.

"But that _Lorenzo_ guy…" Arthur said his name with as much disgust he could muster. Arthur took a moment to think about the man who had just plopped down into his life, and had destroyed everything. "I'm mad at him. I'm mad that he's able to be with Guinevere publically, and not have to worry about what his crazy father will do if he finds out. I'm mad that he can be free with her." Arthur moved past Merlin, walking to his bed.

Merlin watched Arthur lay on his back, staring up at the bed's canopy. "Arthur, I wish there was something I could say to magically make this better for you."

"Yeah, me too," Arthur responded, not making eye contact with Merlin. "You know Merlin…sometimes I feel like you're the only real friend that I have."

* * *

><p>Gwen hurriedly moved to the kitchens, tightening her apron as she did so. However, even before walked in, she could hear the three women who dominated the kitchen gossiping about her.<p>

"Gwen! That boy sure is a looker. Marge wasn't lyin'!" Alice exclaimed as soon as the embarrassed maid came into full view. "Where'd you say you met him again honey?"

"Uhh, Cid's diner. He was a bus boy."

"Honey, I need to get me a job there!"

"I know that's right!" Marge laughed loudly in unison with Alice.

Gwen looked at Stella who was putting raspberry filling into a pie; trying her best no to give away any expressions of amusement. However, as Gwen walked to the sink to wash her hands, she saw the older maid wearing a tight grin.

"Y'all play too much. Whatever happened to privacy?" Gwen chided.

"You two were out there by the fountain. Last time I checked, lookin' was free." Marge sassed.

"So, how long have you two been datin'?" Alice cut in enthusiastically.

Gwen cleared her throat, preferring not to share details with her nosy colleagues. "We aren't really dating, Miss Alice."

"It sure looked like it. He couldn't keep his hands to himself."

"Oh?" Stella asked alarmed, finally raising her head to lookat Gwen.

"No Miss Stella. You know how those two like to exaggerate. We're not dating really 'cause he was gone to Chile."

"But he's back now." Marge reminded her. "Does that mean y'all are datin' now?"

"No…"

"Ah c'mon! Maybe—"

"Would y'all just quit!" Stella looked at the two women. "Obviously, Gwen aint in the mood for talkin', so quit the hollerin'!" Stella snapped, frustrated.

"We're just teasin'," Marge explained, resting a hand on the young girl's shoulder. "We hardly get any excitement in this house, so when one cute little Hispanic boy comes a runnin' through, you know we'll make a fuss.

"Go on, and switch the radio on. The news should be coming on," Stella suggested to no one in particular. Stella had spoken; there would be no more talk of this mysterious and handsome Lorenzo.

* * *

><p>Uther returned to his estate at five p.m., only to find his home completely silent and lifeless. Morgana usually greeted him with a kiss as soon as he entered, but that afternoon he was greeted solely by a maid who took his briefcase. Whereas Merlin and Arthur would normally be heard on the tennis courts, or in the living room, sprawled on the couch watching television, they too were nowhere in sight.<p>

"Arthur, Morgana? I'm home!" Uther called out, receiving the sole response of his echo.. "Stella," Uther stopped the head maid who was leaving the kitchen.

"Good afternoon sir," the chief maid nodded in respect.

"Where are Arthur and Morgana?"

"They're both in their rooms; studying, I reckon."

Uther nodded, dismissing the maid promptly. He moved up the steps, not as quickly as he used to, reminded of his age as he reached the second floor short of breath. He looked down the desolate hall; both Arthur and Morgana's bedroom doors were shut.

"Morgana, may I come in?" Uther asked, knocking on his niece's door.

"Sure." Morgana called from the other side.

Uther opened the door, smiling as he saw his niece at her desk, reading from a book. "I see you're hard at work?" He asked leaning his head down as his niece gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Morgana took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes. "Unfortunately."

"Did you have a good day, at least?"

Morgana smiled. "In fact I did, Uncle. Very exciting."

"Really? What happened?"

Morgana waved her hand. "You wouldn't understand."

Uther shrugged. "As long as it has nothing to do with boys…"

"Uncle…" Morgana's voice trailed off.

Uther changed the subject at his niece's warning.

"I think we'll be sitting down for supper in twenty minutes."

Morgana nodded with a smile as her uncle left the room, walking across the hall. "Arthur?" Uther knocked, turning the handle on his son's room, only to find the door locked. Jiggling the knob a couple of times, he heard the agitated voice of Arthur.

"Stop messing with the door! Who is it?"

"It's me, why is your door locked?" Uther asked letting go of the knob.

"No reason…I'm, uh... getting dressed!"

"Alright, super's in twenty minutes."

"I'm not hungry."

"Nonsense, you'll eat with the family."

"I _said_ I'm not hungry," Arthur stated defiantly.

Uther tried to open the door once again, as he too became angry. "Arthur this is ridiculous. I will not talk to you through a door. I'm your father, open up."

"I said I'm getting dressed!" Arthur grumbled.

Even through an oak door, Arthur's apparent attitude irritated Uther.

"Arthur, I'm being very patient right now. But hear me well when I say that you're going to open this door, right now."

After further audible groans, and a few moments, Uther could hear the lock being turned. Arthur swung the heavy door open with full force, resting on it as he waited for his father to speak.

Uther's eyebrows shot up as he took a gander at his son. "What the hell happened to you?"

Arthur resisted rolling his eyes. "Is that what you came to say? 'Cause if so, I'm gonna go lay back down." Arthur began to close his door, but his father's arm shot up to keep it open.

"You will be doing no such thing. Supper's in twenty minutes. Wash up," Uther took a quick onceover of his child. "And…look presentable." Uther turned his back to his son, unable to see the glare Arthur sported.

Despite how ill Arthur felt, twenty minutes later he had brushed his hair, and presented himself in the dining room. Some of the staff was already setting the food on the table as Arthur walked in.

"Merlin, you're back?" Arthur addressed his friend who sat next to Morgana.

"Yeah, Morgana invited me for dinner…as usual."

Uther smiled as Arthur plopped down into a seat. "Perk up son, Stella made your favorites. Maybe that'll put a smile on your face."

Arthur looked down at his white plate, as he felt the movement of the maids around the table.

"Would you like some water sir?"

Uther didn't respond, instead lifted his glass as the maid filled it to the brim.

"Me too Gwen," Morgana called quietly. On hearing her name, Arthur slowly looked up, finding Gwen across the table. She moved to Merlin, who declined. Then slowly, she made her way to the opposite side of the table where Arthur sullenly sat.

"Water?" She asked plainly and softly.

Arthur mutely nodded, and Gwen filled his glass as well. Arthur couldn't help himself as he turned his head to watch Gwen leave. When he finally turned to the table's occupants, his gaze crashed with Merlin's.

"Can we start?" Arthur asked hurriedly, picking up his utensils without waiting for confirmation. Everyone else followed suit, spending the majority of the dinner in silence.

* * *

><p>Gwen's calloused hand's clutched onto a mop with a death grip, humming yet another hymn. Though she was behind the usually boisterous kitchen, that afternoon a silence permeated the Pendragon Estate. Morgana was out shopping with Vivian and a couple of other friends, while Arthur could be heard on the tennis courts with Leon. Gwen's humming ceased as she thought of Arthur, and his strange behavior which began two days ago. Since then, he hadn't spoken a single word to her, and it was obvious that he was exerting a generous amount of energy to avoided her at all costs.<p>

Gwen had tried not to dwell on his strange behavior, but deep down, she did feel a bit guilty. She cared for Arthur, and having him ignore her, and seemingly tossing her aside hurt. In her attempt to explain his new attitude towards her, Gwen had come up with just about every explanation. However, the only one that seemed rational was that he was upset because of the strange encounter with Lorenzo two days ago.

Not only had he been rude then, but he angrily bolted into the house after; she had only caught glimpses of him since. She wished that Arthur would talk to her, so she could put all her suspicions to rest. However, he would have to be the one to approach her. Gwen wasn't going to put up with Arthur's rudeness, and then beg for him to speak to her. Perhaps that's what he was waiting for; for her to come to him crawling, wallowing in sadness because of his absence.

_Well, he's got another thing coming!_ _He can go on and act like a spoiled brat…but I don't owe him a darn thing! _

Gwen's thoughts were interrupted as Stella approached her, a small box in her hands. "Have you cleaned the study yet?"

"No ma'am."

"Would you be a lamb, and rest this carton on the small table in there?" Stella tapped the box. "They're some cigars Mr. Pendragon bought for the men who are comin' tomorrow night for a party."

"Yes'm, I'll go do it." Gwen agreed, taking the box.

"Thanks."

Gwen nodded, resting the mop and bucket against a wall as she made the short trip to the study. Whistling, she pushed open the double doors, as the examined the thick and seemingly expensive box. She looked up, only to find that she was not alone. Arthur stood at one of the dozens of bookshelves, a book opened in his hands, and a newly lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

Arthur at Gwen startled for a split moment, before returning his gaze to his book. Gwen walked to the small table where Stella told her to place the cigars, before she was jarred by Arthur's voice.

"What are you doing in here?" It was not a gentle inquisition, for his tone was hostile and cold.

"An errand." Gwen stated simply, not wanting to partake in any of the games Arthur was playing.

Arthur looked at Gwen, exhaling a puff of smoke, as he snapped his book shut with a loud clap. "Sure." Instead of wasting energy, and putting the book back on the shelf, Arthur of tossed it carelessly on a nearby seat, giving Gwen a quick glance as she watched him, obviously confused. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he silently walked to the large desk which sat near the door.

"Excuse me Ar—sir."

Arthur didn't bother to look at Gwen as he mashed his cigarette into the glass ash tray, but she continued nonetheless.

"You know I'm going to have to pick that book up now; right?"

If Arthur wasn't so upset with Gwen, he would've been amused, even attracted to her sudden burst of sassiness. But now, it just pissed him off even more. "It is your job, isn't it? You are_ just_ a maid, after all." Arthur finally turned to face Gwen, as her eyes narrowed at his snide remark. Her normally soft and radiant brown eyes appeared to mist over, as Gwen quickly turned leaving the room.

"Ah, shit!" Arthur cursed as he watched Gwen nearly run out of the room, obviously upset with his comment. _Well, you've done it now Arthur. You've proven yet again what an amazing prick you really are._ Arthur looked at the closed double doors, anticipating that Gwen would rush back in, and give him a piece of her mind. Instead, the door remained closed, and Arthur stood alone, feeling no better after the remark than he did before.

He dragged his feet slowly to the door, before he turned around, and put the book back on the shelf.

* * *

><p>"Here you go Elliot," Gwen addressed her brother, handing him a newly buttered biscuit. Elliot thanked his sister with a mouth full of ham, as Gwen turned off the stove, finally joining her family at the table.<p>

"You look tired, Gwen," Tom commented, looking over his newspaper.

Gwen took a small bite of eggs, as she felt the curious gaze of her father and brother analyze her. "What?" She snapped rather sharply.

Tom put down his newspaper with a quickness, folding his strong arms over his chest. "Who do you think you're talkin' to young lady?"

Gwen hung her head, hoping her father wouldn't continue.

"Now, you've been tip toein' 'round this house for the past couple of days, wearing a very un-lady like sulk. I want no more of it, you hear?"

Gwen looked down at her plate, as she quietly chewed, and uttered a soft "yes Daddy."

Elliot watched his sister, as he brought his glass of milk to his mouth. "I thought you'd be happy, with Lorenzo back and all."

"Elliot: would you quit talkin' with your mouth full? And I am happy…it's just haven't been getting a lot of sleep."

"Baby, you never get any sleep," Tom reminded his daughter.

"Well, maybe it's catching up now," Gwen muttered.

Tom tilted his head, not satisfied with his daughter's explanation for her recent peculiar behavior.

Gwen finished her food in less than five minutes, as her family took their time. Standing with her plate, Gwen placed it in the sink. "Have a good day at work y'all. I'm gonna go see if I can get any rest." The two men simply nodded at Gwen, who dragged her feet all the way to her small bedroom.

The only sound left in the kitchen was the sound of Elliot loudly slurping his milk. "Elliot! Would you quit boy?" Tom snapped, as his son put down his glass, revealing a milk mustache. Tom tossed his messy son a napkin, shaking his head. "Sometimes I wonder if you or your sister is the older one in this house." Tom watched Elliot wipe his mouth clean, before addressing him again. "What's wrong with Gwen, she seems so…moody lately?" Tom asked quietly, as he leaned in to make sure that only Elliot could hear his inquiry.

"Pop, she's a girl. Aint they always like that?" Elliot began loudly.

Tom laughed quietly, before reminding his son to keep his voice down.

"Or…maybe she's actually tired."

"I don't believe that for a red hot second, and if you knew your sister, you wouldn't either. That girl is just like her mama; "tired" wasn't in her vocabulary and it aint in Gwen's neither." Tom declared, reclining in his chair once again. He looked at his watch before sighing loudly, and standing. "C'mon and eat up, or else we'll miss our bus."

Twenty minutes later, Tom and Elliot were running down the street and around to corner to the bus stop. Gwen watched them from her bedroom window, collapsing into bed once she had lost sight of them. All she wanted was sleep; a nice replenishing rest free of dreams about Arthur. Her wish was granted, for moments after her head made contact with the pillow, she was out like a light.

* * *

><p>Three hours later, Gwen was jarred from her peaceful slumber, by a loud and violent rapping against her front door. Rubbing her eyes, she patted her messy curls down, as she groggily walked to the front door. Gwen grew suspicious, for she knew no one as rude or impatient as this mystery person on the other side of the door.<p>

"I'm comin'! Who is it?"

There was a few seconds of delay. "Dearborn Police, open up!"

Gwen's eyes widened, before narrowing again in confusion. _Police? What business do they have here? Whenever the Law is at colored folks home, it always means trouble._ Her thoughts didn't dissuade her however, once she heard the gruff anger and impatience in the voice of the officer. Slowly, she opened the door, completely baffled at their unexpected appearance.

Two men in the full brown and tan police uniform stood on her doorstep, one of whom was smoking cigarette. "You Gwen Gibson?" He asked, tossing the cigarette on her front lawn without a care.

Gwen's eyes took a moment to look at the cigarette that was rudely flung practically next to her feet, as she wondered how they knew her name. "Yes sir, I am. And you are…?" She asked in a controlled tone, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm deputy Cooper, and this here is my partner." He responded taking a small notepad and pen from his pocket.

"Am I in some kind of trouble, officer? You do know my name."

"No ma'am. No trouble, we're investigatin' the Neely's, and your name came up. Are you close with the family."

"Investigation?" Gwen muttered to herself. "I'm friend with Lucianne Neely, and our mother's were friends. But, I haven't talked to them in months maybe."

The officer examined Gwen carefully, not fully convinced.

"May I ask what y'all are investigating?"

"We're investigatin' claims that Mr. Raymond Neely had some…sultry business with Ms. Tate, and the Councilman is sayin' that it was against her will."

Gwen's eyebrows came together in confusion, as she recognized the name of Councilman Tate's popular daughter. Gwen waited on her a couple of times at Cid's diner, but they were hardly acquaintances. "Well sir, Raymond lives down yonder," Gwen began pointing her index finger across the street to the Neely home. "But I don't really know Ray; he's a quiet fella, not much to him. But…Mary Tate, aint she councilman Henry Tate's daughter?"

"Yes'm."

"I don't know her. And I sure don't know anything about any… 'sultry business'."

"You know," the officer began, putting away the pad he never wrote in. "If you're tellin' us a story, we can haul you in for obstructin' our investigation."

Gwen had withheld the fact that she had heard Mary Tate's name floating around the neighborhood, but she wasn't sure why; now she did. In fear of incriminating her friend's brother in any way, she decided to end the conversation. "I'm sorry officers, I don't know anything else. Have a nice day." She rushed out quickly.

The two men in uniform looked at each other, before turning to leave, without uttering another word. Gwen closed the door, turning to lean her back against it. _Lucianne's brother is being accused of rape? How ridiculous! He and Mary have probably never met! Or does— _Gwen's thoughts were interrupted as she heard more knocking at her door. "What do you want now? I told you everything I know, officers."

"Officers? It's Lorenzo, Gwen."

"Lorenzo?" Gwen asked, turning to open the door.

"I saw the police driving up. It looks like they went a couple doors down."

Gwen moved to stand next to Lorenzo, watching the same to officers knocking on Alice's door with the same amount of patience which they knocked on hers; Gwen involuntarily shuttered.

"What's wrong?" Lorenzo asked as Gwen invited him inside of her home.

"It's nothing. Well, the police came poking 'round, asking about Raymond Neely and Mary Tate…saying that he raped her. They must have nothin' better to do than harass colored folk, 'cause they sure aren't protecting us," Gwen scoffed. "Come, sit Lorenzo. It's good to see you."

Lorenzo sat at the kitchen table, nodding. "Yeah, I heard about them."

"Well, that means that you know more than I do." Gwen poured her guest a tall glass of lemonade, handing it to him as she joined him at the table. "Tell me about it, would ya?"

Lorenzo ran a hand through his short dark hair, wondering where to start. "Well, some guys at the gym are saying that Ray and Mary have been sneaking around together for a good part of the year. I train with a lot of colored guys, some who live here, and they swore that it was Gospel Truth. Well, apparently old Councilman Tate found out that his daughter was running 'round with a poor colored man…and you're a smart girl Gwen; I think you can figure out the rest."

Gwen rested her hands on the table, as she exhaled loudly. "This has been happening more lately. Some colored man falls in love with the wrong white girl…and then her parents accuse him of raping her. It happened to Mr. Keller last year…he got the chair. Oh Jesus, Raymond is such a gentle soul…"

Lorenzo shook his head too, knowing that the odds were greatly stacked against the poor guy. "He just picked the wrong girl…"

"You can say that again. But they haven't arrested him yet, that's good though…isn't it?"

"I guess, but I think that's why they're canvassing; fishing for any evidence that may stick, just so they can toss Raymond in jail."

"Golly. Good thing I didn't say anything…" Gwen trailed off, talking mainly to herself.

Lorenzo reached out, moving to hold her hand, before resting his own back in his lap. Gwen noticed the strange gesture, but didn't say anything. "I didn't come here to talk 'bout Ray and Mary. I wanted to take you out for lunch. You up for it?"

"Yeah!" Gwen smiled, nearly jumping up from her kitchen seat. "Let me go fix my hair; it's a bird nest."

Lorenzo laughed as Gwen disappeared to her bathroom, closing the door.

* * *

><p>Lorenzo drove Gwen down Main Street, where most of the restaurants were. He parked his car a block away from the restaurant, so he and Gwen passed Cid's diner on their walk, where Gwen stopped to look at a large poster in the window: "Under New Management". Lorenzo gently tugged her arm, tearing her away from the black and white sign.<p>

"Did you see that sign?" Gwen asked Lorenzo as he opened the door of the restaurant next door for her.

"Yeah, Cid's cousin runs it now." Lorenzo laughed to himself. "Apparently Cid skipped town with his seventeen year old mistress."

Gwen's hand flung to her mouth. "No!" She gasped in amazement.

Lorenzo nodded his head in affirmation. "Sad, but true."

"I always thought he was a sleeze ball," Gwen huffed, remembering her terrible old boss.

Gwen and Lorenzo enjoyed great conversation along with their delicious food, when suddenly Lorenzo put down his glass of water, and took on a serious tone.

"Gwen, I…uh, I have to tell you something."

Gwen blinked, as she mutely nodded, Lorenzo's diction making her uneasy.

"Well, I don't know how to say this…"

"Just say it Lorenzo."

"Alright. I've been offered a big deal by this huge scout from up north."

Gwen blinked. "Where up north?"

"New York city…Brooklyn, actually."

Gwen gasped. "Goodness! That's fantastic Lorenzo! This is what you've been waiting for, right?"

Lorenzo smiled, nodding as he looked down at his plate. "It's a dream come true. It's really my chance to really break through."

"That's great…but you won't leave for a while; right?" Gwen asked hopeful.

"Not exactly…I leave in two weeks for Brooklyn. They're offering me a whole load of cash, and some of the best training. I'll have to do a couple of fights for them, but this is an offer I can't just pass it up. If I stay in this town, I'll never get recognize. This is my big shot!"

"This is so fast…it's like a whirlwind…" Gwen said softly.

"I know. I already signed the contracts, and the scout wants me up there as soon as possible."

"I'm sad that you have to leave again Lorenzo, really I am. But I agree; if you want to make it big, you'll have to go up north. This is sounds like an opportunity of a lifetime."

"I know…but I wanted to let you know that I'll be gone for at least a year."

Gwen blinked, as she swallowed. She must of heard him wrong, so she asked for clarification."A year?" She hardly whispered.

"Well…at least. And if they're really impressed, it may be for a little longer."

Gwen looked away, as the thought of Lorenzo being gone for more than a year had completely ruined their lovely meal.

"Listen; I know you and I aren't really official…and that's okay. I think it's best that we remain just friends. It wouldn't be fair for either of us, when we'll be so far apart for so long." Lorenzo looked up at Gwen, he held his breath, waiting for her response.

After a few moments of silence, Gwen spoke with a small smile. "Lorenzo, I want to thank you for being so forthright about this. And I…well, I agree. I wouldn't want to keep you from any gal up in New York." She joked, hoping to make the situation a little lighter.

Lorenzo sported a bright smile, happy that she didn't take the new too badly. "Nor would I want to keep you away fromm anyone down here. But we're still writing each other; okay? Don't think you can get rid of me that fast!" He laughed.

"Of course! And you'll come down to visit, right?"

"We'll see. But I'll let you know far in advance. Sound like a good deal?"

"A deal it is."

_Title Inspired by: "Face Like Thunder" by Rosaline _


	11. Chapter 11

_Lovely, lovely readers…firstly; yes, I am still alive. And no, I have not quit writing "My Love, My Secret". My excuse is one I'm sure you've heard with countless other authors on ; school=no free time. Yet, I hope you all aren't too upset, because as my returning gift, I have a very exciting chapter (well…I think it is) prepared for you all. You will most likely want to read Chapter 10 again in its entirety, or skim it, because Chapter 11 picks up where I left off last. So, I hope you all enjoy it! I think its the longsest chapter I've written :O and I don't think you guys can understand the number of times of edited this! Good news: I have Chapter 12 written already, and have like the next 5 chapters outlined in detail…but I write/edit when I have time._

_Leave a comment, tell me if you loved it or hated it. And don't forget to add my to your "Story Alert", so you can be first to read what HUGE event occurs in Chapter 12 (I'm not telling!) _

_PS, sorry if they're are any terrible mistakes; I had to beta it myself, so pardon me in that respect. I don't think there's anything terrible, though._

_YoureAnIllusion_

**Chapter 11: A Single Moment of Sincerity**

Gwen stood at the bottom of the Pendragon's spiral staircase, looking at the full laundry basket at her feet with contempt.

"I may as well just get it over with." After an exasperated sigh, she picked up the heavy basket, feeling a strain on her back as she straightened. The entire way to the second floor, Gwen Gibson laughed at the fact that she was about to turn twenty, and she had back pains like an old woman. With her arrival in front of Morgana's bedroom door came a small sigh of relief as she set the basket down, and knocked on her friend's door, holding her breath.

"If that's you Gwen, you can come in!" Morgana chirped cheerfully from the other side.

The tired maid released a low groan of disappointment, and slight agitation, for she had hoped that Morgana would be out of the house, spending time with Vivian. Gwen enjoyed Morgana's company, and she was always so happy to see her, but today she wasn't in a talking mood. The last thing the maid wanted or needed was the uncannily perceptive Morgana to pester her more than she already had about Gwen's recent sullen moods.

Nonetheless, Gwen couldn't avoid Morgana all day. So, she put on the most convincing smile she could muster, pushed some hair out of her face, and then turned the knob to enter Morgana's large abode.

Gwen found the lady of the house standing by her canopy-bed, pensively examining two dresses she held in either hand.

"Golly, Gwen am I so happy to see you!" Morgana declared. "I do declare, I have been tryin' to choose which dress to wear to tonight, and I just can't!" She complained, obviously frustrated. "Now, tell me the truth: do you like the green one or cream colored one better?" Morgana asked, turning to Gwen with a bright smile, before her expression was overcast with a frown. "Or…what about that long purple one?"

Gwen couldn't help but smile at how distraught Morgana was over some silly clothing choice. "I like the cream one the most." Gwen answered evenly, tucking away some clothing in the gargantuan dresser which sat next to Morgana's equally large window.

"You're right," Morgana agreed, tossing the other dress on the bed as she plopped down next to it. "You know, Vivian and I went shopping just yesterday, and we went to the _cutest_ little boutique, over yonder in Andover. I saw them, and I nearly ran to the rack! They're just stunnin', aren't they?" Morgana asked excitedly, as she looked down at her chipped red nail polish.

"Mhmm," Gwen agreed quietly, hoping the confirmation would quickly silence her unusually talkative friend. It was a formidable attempt, but Morgana continued to ramble on about all the clothing she had found yesterday, and her words began to run together, knotting into incoherence, as Gwen quickly zoned out.

Closing the top dresser drawer, one of Morgana's tops fell to the floor. Bending to pick it up, the sun's rays which poured in from the window warmed her face as she stood to put the top in its proper place. With Morgana's voice serving as background noise, from the corner of her eye, Gwen saw Arthur walking around the large fountain which sat in the front of the Pendragon mansion. Subconsciously, Gwen's whole body pivoted towards the window, as she watched Arthur stand next to his red convertible. His head was tilted downward as he successfully lit a cigarette, throwing the lighter in the passenger seat.

As she watched Arthur finally get into the car, she wondered what he was thinking at that very moment. Had he missed during this past week as much as she had missed him? Or was he still upset with her (the reason why, still a mystery), and planning on avoiding her for yet another week?

Gwen didn't have much time to ponder the thought, for her quiet reflection was loudly interrupted by Morgana, who she found standing next to her.

"So what do you say Gwen?" Morgana asked with a bright smile.

Gwen winced with a start, unsure of exactly how long Morgana had been standing with her.

Morgana's eyebrows furrowed at Gwen's reaction. Curious, she looked out the window at the same direction Gwen had been so transfixed on only moments ago. Her eyes locked onto Arthur's car, which stalled in front of the Estate's gates, as he waited for the attendant to open them.

Stealing another glance at Gwen, Morgana resisted the urge to scoff at her lovesick cousin and her cheerless friend. In short; Morgana Pendragon had had enough. Not only was it irritating to cope with Arthur's newly _shortened_ temper, (which seemed to flare at the smallest things), but Gwen too had been joylessly mulling around for the past week. In her opinion, the two had been behaving like children. Yet… she still couldn't decide whether their separation was a blessing or a curse.

Since she had discovered via minor investigation that Arthur had purchased Gwen a new copy of "Fahrenheit 451", Morgana had been watching a relationship develop between her friend and cousin; and it unsettled her. From catching them alone together in the stables, to eavesdropping on private conversations which took place behind closed doors, it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Morgana had literally prayed that something would happen to split the two (amicably) and have them go their separate ways before becoming too attached. So it was only reasonable that she interrupted Lorenzo's surprise return as a sign in her favor.

She assumed that Gwen would forget about the brief flirtation she had indulged in with Arthur, and return to a realistic relationship with Lorenzo. Yet…it had become clear to her that everything was out of her hands when not only did Lorenzo tell Gwen he wanted to remain friends, but he had left for New York but five days ago! Now, everything was a mess; and there was nothing she could do about it. What would it take for the normally sensible Gwen to see reason? And Arthur—well, Morgana still wasn't sure what her cousin's motives where with Gwen. She had concluded that they could only be selfish, because that was the only reason why he engaged with women in the first place.

"Morgana, what were you saying?" Gwen asked impatiently, turning away from the window completely as she found her friend staring at the ground, deep in thought.

"Oh, nothing, nothing…" Morgana assured, flipping her dark hair, as she walked over to the brand new shoes she had placed on her bed. She mentally chided herself as she felt the bed indent with Gwen's weight as she sat. Morgana swallowed, as she quickly gained her composure, finally reminding her friend what it was she had been talking about earlier.

"Gwen, I was asking you which of these shoes matches the best."

The maid ran a tired hand through her hair as she stifled a yawn. "Tell me: what's all this dressin' up for again?"

Morgana sighed in frustration as she stamped her foot down; she had_ just _shared every detail with Gwen, only to find her ogling at her cousin through the window. "Could you quit the day dreamin'!"

Gwen held up her hands in defense. "Okay, Okay! Just… quickly refresh my memory."

Morgana sighed impatiently, beginning in a rushed tone. "Father's having a dinner party tonight with his three best friends and their families: the Remingtons, the Dodsons and the Alaines. Mr. Dodson owns just 'bout every fancy department store in the state. And you know Mr. Alaine; he is the mayor after all. I think Henry Tate may be coming too…" Morgana's voice trailed off as she thought for several moments, her mind running over the guest list.

Gwen's ears perked up at the reference of the councilman. "_Councilman _HenryTate?"

"Unless there's some other Henry Tate runnin' 'round inDearborn."

Gwen scowled at the blatant sarcasm.

"Yes, Councilman Tate; Mr. Big-shot…well, not as big as Uncle," Morgana added as an afterthought.

"Wow…this is strange."

"What?" Morgana asked finally sitting next to Gwen on the large bed.

"Well…I never told you, but the police came a knockin' on my door last Saturday."

"What?'" Morgana gasped. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm not sure. They were poking 'round the neighborhood, asking folks 'bout some man named Raymond who lives 'cross the street from me, saying he done raped Mary Tate, the Councilman's daughter."

Morgana sighed sadly, preferring not to speak on the matter. After all, everywhere else she went, people were gossiping on the very issue. "Yeah, my friends at university have been talking about it nonstop. Mary's such a gentle lamb…it's downright shameful that any man could do such a thing to her."

Gwen's eyebrows came together in confusion. "You're saying that you believe all of that?"

"I don't know Raymond, now, but Councilman Tate swears up and down that Ray raped his daughter; and I believe him. He's a respectable man, who serves our country well."

"Well, I actually _know _Raymond, and he'd never do such a thing, he's the quietest fella I know. It's all one big lie."

Morgana sat up, running her fingers through her long hair uncomfortably.

"And, rumor has it that Ray and Mary were in love, and the Councilman found out. It's just an underhanded way to get rid of Raymond; for good."

Morgana scoffed. "Rumor has it?" Morgana asked obviously offended. "That's all that is, a rumor, don't be ridiculous! Mr. Tate is a stand up man; he would never do such a thing!" Morgana would continue to defend the Councilman; he was a pillar of the community, and someone she knew personally. "Also, Mary would never sneak around with a colored, when she has a boyfriend already. He's one of Arthur's old friends, Alex."

Gwen knew who Alex was; how could she forget? He was the goon who had gotten her in trouble the first time she met Arthur, and was working at Cid's.

"Besides, girls fawn over him left and right! There's no way that Mary would cheat on him…much less with a colored."

Gwen blinked at Morgana's last words, as she watched her friends eyes widen once the sentence registered to her own ear.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way Gwen! It's just that…she'd never shame her family by messin' with a colored fella, that's all."

"Morgana, it happens all the time, people just don't want to admit it." Gwen snapped her fingers. "Remember what happened with that colored man named Keller, three years ago?"

Morgana shook her head in the negative.

"The sheriff _himself_ barged into his home, and arrested him without any evidence. Let's just say, the courts moved faster than a hot knife through butter. Within a year, they had him fryin' like bacon in the chair at the state prison."

"But if the government didn't execute him, the Klan sure would've lynched him." Morgana cut in, as if to defend the injustice.

"That doesn't mean a thing. All that matters is that early last year, it was revealed that Keller was havin' relations with a married white woman…I think you can figure out the rest."

Morgana shook her head solemnly.

" Now, don't get me wrong. Were livin' in a fallen world, and I'm not saying that rape never happens…but not Ray, he's a gentle soul."

Morgana looked away thoughtfully, as she stroked her chin. "Well, now that you mention it…I reckon that Mary's never said herself that she was raped; only her father, and the occasional rant from Alex. She's been mighty quiet 'bout it…"

Gwen nodded, already convinced that everything said about Raymond Neely was a lie. "I just hope this doesn't go any further."

"We both know Gwen that this is the Councilman's mission now. If Raymond goes down…it won't be pretty."

Gwen shook her head, not wanting to think about the possible consequences. She couldn't talk about her neighbors any further without falling apart.

Morgana saw the emotion which was becoming to overcome her friend, and she rubbed her affectionately. "We don't know how things will turn out for sure, Gwen."

Though Morgana made an earnest attempt to console her friend, they both knew that the words of encouragement were empty.

* * *

><p>Gwen was curled up on the couch with a book on her lap, and her brother sitting next to her, watching their father trying to fix their ham radio. The only sound in between the four walls was scratchy static emanating from the dysfunctional radio, and the relative silence unnerved the often talkative Elliot.<p>

"Hey Gwen, guess what?" He began excitedly, turning to his sister whose eyes were glued to her book.

"What?"

"Remember my old friend Robert?"

"Who? Are you talking 'bout that hooligan who's been sweet on Gwen for years now?" Tom cut in before his daughter could respond

Gwen laughed, shaking her head at her father. "Yeah, I remember him."

"Well, he came by the shop today to get his truck looked at. We got 'round to talkin'; just to catch up, and all. He asked 'bout you, wanted to know how you were doing."

Tom rolled his eyes. "That boy just doesn't know when quittin' time is." Tom remarked glancing at his children who sat on the couch. "That boy's a downright bum, and he has no business knowing how Gwen's _doing._"

"Ah, c'mon Pop, he aint _that _bad." Elliot murmured as he dropped the subject. "Oh, Pop, I finally got a chance to shoot the breeze with Lucianne Neely today. We stopped for a little chat when I was walkin' home from the grocery store."

Tom nearly dropped the ham radio to the carpeted ground, as he slowly pivoted, so he could face his children. "You did what now, Elliot?" He asked quietly, through nearly gritted teeth.

Elliot hadn't caught onto his father's change in mood, so he simply rephrased his last statement. "Me and Lucianne talked for a spell today." Elliot and Gwen were startled, as their father's palm made contact with the wooden table in fury.

Gwen looked up alarmed. "Is everything…alright, Daddy?" She asked cautiously.

Tom shot up out of his chair, rubbing the top of his head. "Elliot, I don't want you talkin' to Lucianne no more."

"But—"

"Hush!" Tom bellowed, earning the complete attention of his children.

"I don't want y'all even walkin' on their side of the street, you hear?"

"Pop, you aint makin' sense!"

"Daddy, tell us what's wrong. The Neely's are like kin."

Tom shook his head vehemently, waving his hands. "No Gwen, they aint; not anymore. You two mark my words; the Neely's may live 'cross the street, but I don't want y'all anywhere near that house, you hear?" Neither of his children responded, instead they sat on the sofa confused and wide-eyed. Tom to let out a labored sigh, deciding that retaining composure may prove to be the most effective in persuading his family. "The Neely's received a death threat this afternoon. A brick sailed straight through one of their side windows, with a letter attached."

Elliot and Gwen looked at each other, both hearing the news for the first time. Elliot's eyebrows came together. "But…Lucianne never mentioned that. And…now that I think about it, I never really looked at their house."

"My stars…why? Why would someone do such a thing?" Gwen whispered in amazement.

"Y'all, I don't know much, and I don't wanna get involved. But what I do know is that the note was tellin''em that they'd skip town; if they knew what was good for 'em."

"…Or else what?" Gwen asked quietly, though she already knew the answer.

"Or else the Klan would gets their hands on 'em, and have no mercy."

"Oh, God!" Gwen cried out, as her brother reached for her hand to comfort her.

"So, now y'all understand why I want you to stay away from them?"

Elliot and Gwen nodded in sync, as Tom continued.

"If anything happens to the Neely's I don't want y'all to be anywhere near that house. You know them Klan folk: they'll lynch a fella, and ask questions later. You two are all I got, and I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to y'all."

Gwen nodded, understanding her father's disparity; yet she still had her questions. "But why would the Klan be actin' now, Daddy? People been talkin' 'bout Ray and that white girl for some time now. Yet, all of a sudden, the police are runnin' through the town, and the rednecks are creating a ruckus. None of this is making any sense!"

"Baby, the rumors are gettin' ugly now."

Gwen waited silently for her father to elaborate, however Tom looked away, making it clear that he had no plans to explain any further. Gwen turned to Elliot, confusion clouding her features.

"What are people saying now, Elliot?"

Elliot looked at his father for permission to continue, and Tom nodded his head slightly after a few moments of deliberation. Elliot took a deep breath, unsure of how to phrase the latest bit of town gossip. "The word goin' 'round now is that Mary Tate's pregnant."

Gwen's eyes widened, as she blinked rapidly. She looked at her father who let out a labored sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No! I don't believe that for a second!"

Elliot and Tom nodded silently.

"That's a tall tale if I've ever heard one!" Gwen continued to deny the latest rumor whole heartedly. "You know how rumors are…m-maybe Councilman Tate is just saying that so it'll be easier to get rid of Ray! Or maybe that Mary is a filthy liar like her daddy—"

"No one knows for sure, Gwen." Tom interrupted solemnly. "But none of us are goin' over to the Neely house to find out." Tom covered his face, unsure of what else there was to say. "Gwen, it's just…the Klan's too unpredictable. And we're a lot closer to that family then I'd want to be."

Gwen pushed aside her book in frustration, resting her head on the back of the couch. "When were y'all gonna tell me all of this?" She asked, closing her eyes.

The only response Gwen received was silence; and it'd stay that way for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>While Guinevere Gibson was at home, spending a humble and simple evening with her family, Arthur Pendragon was forcing himself to stay attentive to the new tawdry discussions he was forced to partake in. He played the part of the rich and charming young man well, but tonight, it took all of the energy he had to fool his prestigious guests.<p>

"So, Arthur, how are your summer courses coming along? Grateful for the ease in the work load?" Mayor Alaine asked patting the young man heartily on the back.

Arthur choked on his wine as the large man slapped him from behind. Clearing his throat, he answered promptly. "Yes sir, I am mightily grateful, though they're practically over. My senior year is startin' soon, so I'm even more grateful that this coming year is my last in university." Though Arthur was completely serious, the four men around him (his father included), let out chuckles of various intensities.

"Then you're ready to take over the family business, eh?" Mr. Remington joked.

Arthur smiled politely. "No sir, not yet."

"Arthur's just being modest, Olaf," Uther cut in quickly. He looked at his son before continuing. "In no time, Arthur'll be downtown with me, second in command of Dragon Real Estate. But, until then, he'll be partaking in an exclusive internship which starts this fall, and become part of the company as soon as he graduates."

"So soon?"

"Of course! He'll need to put that business degree to work."

"That deal sounds too good to be true!" Olaf Remington joked.

"Yes sir, a good deal indeed." Arthur agreed, sipping his wine yet again.

The men nodded approvingly, before changing the subject matter, causing Arthur to become even more disinterested. He turned slightly, surveying the room for the thousandth time that night; but of course he didn't see _her_. He tried to get a glimpse past the kitchen, when his gaze collided with the watchful eye of his curious cousin. She stood at the opposite side of the room, conversing and giggling with her girlfriends. She mouthed a quick "what is it?" But Arthur swiftly turned away, pretending that he hadn't seen her.

"Right, Morgana?" Vivian asked with a giggle, nudging her oblivious friend.

Morgana tore her gaze from Arthur, jostled by Vivian's continuous bumping. "Yes…of course, Vivian." Morgana answered with a forced smile, unsure of what exactly she was being asked. A servant appeared with hors d'ouvres, saving Morgana from a potentially awkward situation.

"What are those?" Vivian asked the servant, pointing at the shiny silver platter which he held. Her friends didn't wait for his response, as all three wasted no time in plucking a couple of the appetizers.

"They're quiche, ma'am," the servant replied, keeping his eye contact on the food.

"Are they made with dairy?"

"Yes'm."

Vivian shook her head. "No. Go get me some more champagne though." She commanded, handing her small glass to the man. The servant nodded courteously, before retreating to the bustling kitchen.

"These little things are delightful, Vivian. You should get one when he comes back," Mildred Alaine suggested happily.

Vivian shook her head in the negative. "I wish I could, Mildred. But I fear that my stomach hasn't been takin' to dairy lately. I'll have to live without the quiche, it seems."

"Oh, that's a shame," Mildred replied as she continued to munch on her own.

Morgana licked her lips, finishing the small appetizer quickly. "Excuse me girls, but I'm just gonna go and use the restroom; I'll be right back." Morgana explained hastily, before turning to exit the room.

Vivian watched her friend until she was out of view, facing Mildred and Kate once again. Her eyebrows knitted together as she watched the two girls turn their attention across the room. Vivian observed them for a couple of moments, before becoming agitated.

"What _are_ y'all droolin' over?" She asked impatiently.

Mildred snapped her neck to glare at her friend. "Now, that was a dumb question!"

Vivian rolled her eyes, as she too looked across the room. She found Arthur with the other men; his head tilted back slightly, his eyes closed as he laughed energetically.

"He sure has a movie star smile," Kate Dodson observed, grinning from ear to ear, as she put a hand to her chest.

Mildred Alaine offered her commentary as well. "It seems that every time I see him, he becomes even more handsome..."

Vivian rolled her eyes for the second time, as the servant returned with her newly refilled glass of champagne. She yanked it off of the platter without a 'thank you', before turning her sharp gaze to the two silly girls. "Would y'all just quit it?" She nearly spat, herself taking another glance at Arthur.

Kate and Mildred looked at each other, as their giggling ceased. "What's eating you, Viv?" Kate asked in her shrill voice.

"I don't like y'all talking 'bout him like that; like he's some piece of meat, or somethin'."

Mildred's eyebrows shot up at her friend's sudden mood change."And why not? We do it all the time…it's like our own little hobby."

"Yeah, and it's not like you two are together, or anything…you never were," Kate agreed, swallowing a snort.

"Yes we were!" Vivian snarled, tucking a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear. She paused, to gain composure. "We're just takin' a break; that's all."

Kate and Mildred looked at each other, both deciding not to argue with their love-sick friend, and play into her delusions with their silence. The girls picked up their old conversation just as Morgana returned.

"Look, I think we're starting." Morgana said pointing to the front of the room where Uther stood, holding up his hands for silence. The talking quickly ceased, as the dinner party guests turned to their host in anticipation for further instructions.

"Good evening everyone, and again, it's my pleasure to have you here." A few nods and smiles ensued after the greeting. "My lovely cooks have prepared a delightful meal, and if everyone's ready, we'll head to the dining room." Uther gave one last courteous smile, before leading the way to the adjoining room. The three families followed, all quietly chatting as they entered the ornate space.

Uther walked to his chair which sat at the head of the table, with Arthur and Morgana taking their seats on either side.

"Oh, Vivian! Come sit next to me," Morgana requested excitedly, patting the unoccupied chair next to her. Arthur gave his cousin a look revealing his confusion, as Vivian practically skipped to the end of the table. . Arthur turned his head in the opposite direction as Vivian sat, not wanting to make any eye contact with her. However, he didn't turn quickly enough, and caught the quick flirtatious wink which was sent his way.

Arthur's looked farther down the table towards Kate and Mildred, who glared at Vivian; obviously green with envy. He chuckled quietly to himself as he laid his linen napkin on his lap. Then he looked at his father, who watched Vivian with a smile. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>It was Saturday, and instead of relaxing and having fun like the rest of her peers, Gwen Gibson was running errands for her family. Not only did she have to go by the pharmacy to refill her father's pain medication again, but she had to go the grocery store to buy food for dinner that night; and she was already running behind schedule.<p>

The familiar chime of the bells attached to the pharmacy door greeted Gwen as she entered quickly. The owner and pharmacist, Mrs. Mealy, could be seen in the front restocking the shelves.

"Gwen!" The old woman nearly sang with a bright smile, always happy to see her favorite customer.

"How are you doing Mrs. Mealy?"

"Just fine. And you?"

_Well, I feel like my world is crumbling 'round me, and there aint a thing I can do to stop it. But besides that, everything's just peachy!_ "Alright, I guess." She replied with a shrug. "Daddy isn't though, I came to refill his prescription," she explained, handing the woman the pill bottle.

Mrs. Mealy invited Gwen to follow her to the back counter where all the prescriptions were held. "He's not working today, is he?"

Gwen shook her head. "No, he and Elliot both work Saturdays. That's the only day I have to do errands for the house." Though Mrs. Mealy had disappeared behind the tall shelves, Gwen could hear her clucking her tongue.

"Tell your father that he aint a youngin' anymore. God only gave him one back, and sometimes all medicine can do is keep the achin' away!"

Gwen nodded in agreement though she was out of Mrs. Mealy's view.

"Plus, you're brother is a strapping young man. Let Tom shuffle him some of the heavy work."

"He tries, but you know how Daddy is; if he's not working hard, he feels useless."

The pharmacist reappeared as some other customers walked in. "Hi y'all!" She greeted before turning back to Gwen. "You know, that's the sign of a good man," she said with a nod, handing Gwen the newly refilled bottle. "When you're out lookin' for your husband within the next year or two, you make sure that he likes to work hard for his living, just like your daddy."

Gwen nodded in agreement.

"That's a sign of a good man, you hear?"

Gwen nodded again as she heard the chime of the bells ring again.

"They don't make men the way they used to."

Gwen giggled at Mrs. Mealy's comment.

"You laugh Gwen, but I'm serious!" She said with a smile.

"I'll keep it in mind, then."

Mrs. Mealy opened her mouth to impart more southern home-grown wisdom upon Gwen, but her gaze was refocused, past the girl. A bright smile pushed the wrinkles up on her face, as she moved from behind the tall white counters.

"Arthur? As I live and breathe, it sure is!" The older woman exclaimed in disbelief, nearly running to embrace the customer who had just entered her shop.

Gwen knew it could only be one Arthur. Why did she always run into him at the worst times? She didn't dare turn around, as she felt the blood in her cheeks drain, and her hands turn icy. She could hear Mrs. Mealy pat Arthur's broad back as she squeezed him in a tight hug.

"Gwen, dear, I assume you know Arthur?" Mrs. Mealy asked excitedly, rubbing his shoulder.

Gwen's lip curled, as she realized she would have to face Mrs. Mealy and Arthur. She did slowly, finding an extremely smug Arthur and an exuberant Mrs. Mealy. Gwen gave no response to the pharmacist's question, so he offered his own.

"Yes ma'am, Guinevere and I know each other."

"Guinevere? I haven't heard anyone call her that except her mama!"

Gwen looked away from Arthur's piercing gaze as she felt all the anger she had been suppressing swell up once again.

"I've know Arthur since he was a boy, now. He'd pop in once a week with his nanny to get a sucker from me. Now he's a man, and he's forgotten 'bout lil' ol' me." Mrs. Mealy softly chided.

"No, that's not true."

The pharmacist dismissed Arthur with a wave of her hand. "I understand; you're off to greater things now."

Gwen cleared her throat, as she put the money for the prescription on the counter, addressing the woman as Arthur watched her intently. "Well, Mrs. Mealy, I've gotta run now. Have a nice afternoon."

"What, you're leaving already? We hardly had the chance to speak."

Gwen turned around quickly, as she continued walking. "We'll catch up next time; I promise."

The old woman blinked a couple of times, turning to Arthur, who watched Gwen open the pharmacy door, nearly running into a man who was on his way in.

"That was strange…" Mrs. Mealy noted.

Arthur nodded as he snapped his fingers. "Forgive me Mrs. Mealy, but I forgot my wallet in my car."

"Don't be silly, Arthur. You can have anything you need, free of charge."

"I couldn't! I'll be happy to pay…I just have to run to my car." Arthur moved quickly, not giving the woman a second chance to object to his departure. Tearing out of the pharmacy as quickly as Gwen had, Arthur stopped in his tracks, looking both ways down the sidewalk for her. After a few moments, he caught her speed walking to his right, and he wasted no time in catching up with her. "Guinevere," he called out as quietly as he could.

Gwen didn't bother to even look back, as Arthur brushed past a couple who had to jump out of his way. "Guinevere, I know you can hear me!" He raised his voice, impatiently. Finally gaining enough speed, Arthur managed to get in front of her, causing Gwen to stop short.

"Arthur, why are you followin' me?" She asked agitated, as she clutched onto her purse, looking around the area.

"We need to talk."

"Talk? Oh, you want to talk to me now? I thought I was 'just a maid'."

Arthur winced, unsure of how to respond.

Gwen scoffed, shaking her head as she made a movement to go around Arthur. However, she was quickly intercepted.

"Please Guinevere, I didn't mean it when I said that."

"No, Arthur, I think you did. And that's just fine, because I have nothing to say to you either." Gwen was able to take a single step before Arthur matched her movement, holding up his hands.

"Just hear me out," he whispered, taking a quick look at the people who passed them by, giving the two lingering stares.

Gwen offered no response, as she too looked at curious individuals who walked just a tad bit slower as they passed her and Arthur.

"Listen; we can do this here with everyone watching."

Gwen gave Arthur an icy glare, not appreciating his sarcasm.

"We can go somewhere more private, just hear me out."

Gwen addressed Arthur sharply, looking at him directly in the eye. "Arthur, you're only gettin' two minutes; that's it." Gwen brought her voice to a quiet hush.

"Fine." Arthur nodded, finding the bargain to be reasonable.

"Well, where is this 'more private' place, because last time I checked, we were on a street corner."

Arthur wasted no time, as he pointed behind Gwen, towards a small passageway created by the outside walls of two neighboring stores. "Over there?"

Gwen quietly nodded, as she followed Arthur to the spot. Arthur walked towards the end of the small alley, so they could have privacy, and not be seen from the sidewalk. He heard Gwen already begin to tap her foot against the concrete impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest. The movement drew his attention to her bust momentarily, before he heard Gwen clear her throat.

"I'm supposed to be 'hearing you out', right?"

Arthur ran a hand through his hair as he nodded, mentally kicking himself. Before finally speaking, he paused, giving his best effort to make his voice as soothing and apologetic as possible. "Guinevere, I don't know where to start, except to say that I'm sorry. I was really out of line last week..in the study."

Gwen didn't break eye contact with Arthur, though her foot ceased its tapping. "Arthur, if you expect me to stand here and tell you that all is well…then I'd be a liar."

Arthur blinked in slight confusion, preparing a response, but Gwen wasn't done.

"I heard your apology, and I'll say thank you for it."

"That's it?" Arthur could hear his anger begin to seep into his tone, which was becoming increasingly bitter. "I come here, I apologize, and this is how you're going to act?"

Gwen rolled her eyes, looking away momentarily before connecting with Arthur's blue eyes once again, her voice taking on a new tone as well. "Arthur I know I'm just a maid, someone who works for you, but that doesn't give you a right to treat me the way you have!"

"I said I was sorry, what else do you want me to do!"

Gwen shook her head, as if she hadn't even heard him. "How dare you treat me like the dirt in your shoes, disrespecting me on every occasion you could these past weeks. And now, some weak apology is supposed to make me forget?"

"Wait, now you hold on a damn minute!" Arthur nearly yelled, the hostility in his voice easily matching Gwen's.

"No you listen to me for a minute!"

Arthur visibly winced as he shut his mouth.

"I honestly don't know what you're problem is, Arthur. You walk around town, and women worship you, the men idle you."

"That's not—"

"Yet you still feel a need to put other people down." Gwen unfolded her arms, as she shook her head. "Well, I won't be one of them. I'm not fixing to let you trample all over me one day, then want to change everything with a sorry excuse for an apology. I don't even know what caused all of this."

"It…it wasn't you."

"Well what was it Arthur? Because I thought we had—" Guinevere cut herself off, not wanting to give Arthur the satisfaction of watching her become even more emotional.

"You thought we had what?" He asked quietly.

Gwen looked away. "I was wrong, just answer my question."

It was now Arthur's turn to look away, not prepared to answer _that_ question.

Gwen waited a few moments, before laughing cynically. She shifted the strap of her purse further up her shoulder, preparing to leave. "I think it's been two minutes—"

"Guinevere," Arthur said quietly, quickly grasping her forearm to keep her from leaving. Gwen looked down at his large hand which nearly wrapped around her arm, as she reluctantly turned to face him. Once Arthur knew he had her undivided attention, he spoke again, never choosing words as carefully in his life. "I know I have much to learn. I treat people poorly; I use them and throw them away; you're right."

"Arthur, you don't have to explain yourself to me."

"Wait, just wait. I'll kick myself for the rest of my life if I don't at least try. It's just…I also have trouble telling the woman that I care about how sorry I am, for how badly I've treated her in these past weeks." Arthur could hear Gwen's voice hitch on the back of her throat. It was clear that this second declaration of affection was no accident. He watched her gaze linger on his hand which had slightly loosened its grip, and slowly draw back to his meet his eyes.

Gwen faintly swallowed, as she felt her mouth run dry in the intensity of the moment. Suddenly, all the angry words she had prepared were lost. She remained silent, unsure if Arthur had more to say. "Arthur…those are dangerous words." Gwen cautioned quietly, all hostility having evaporated from her voice.

"But what if they're true?"

"…Are they?"

"Yes."

Arthur's single-syllable confirmation made chills run up Gwen's spine, and her knees felt like jell-o. This wasn't the way this entire conversation was supposed to work out. She was supposed to put Arthur in his place, and then leave him with his tail between his legs, never to talk to him again. Instead, here she was in some alley way, as vulnerable as ever, receiving Arthur's _second_ pronouncement of fondness... yet there was part of her that didn't want to give in, and believe it so quickly.

"How do I know that you're not just using me, and you do this routine with all your other girls?"

"First off, I don't have any other girls. And with the ones in the past, I've never tried so hard to be with them. That's the God honest truth."

Gwen could only whisper her next words. "Arthur, I want to believe you, and it scares me. Because…things like this aren't supposed to happen …it's just not_ right_. Yet I care for you too," she took a moment to swallow, "and I know it's irrational, just so irrational!"

Arthur smiled widely, unable to help himself as he entwined his fingers with hers. "Gwen, that's all that matters! We both want the same thing; what's stopping us!"

"Arthur, don't you see? It's not that simple! Oh, God knows I wish it was, but you and I can never have anything _real_."

"I don't care that you're colored Gwen, it doesn't change a damn thing. And…we do have something real! Jeez, I mean every time I look at you, or feel your touch even for the slightest second—every time I _think_ of you! That's something real, and it's something I don't want to lose." Arthur made a conscious effort to slow his rapid speech. "I don't want to lose _you_ because of some pig-headed people, who have nothing to do with our lives."

Gwen shook her head vehemently. "Arthur, this is just so much."

Arthur couldn't help himself as he pushed a long dark curl out of her face. "I don't want to wait anymore."

"Arthur…"

"Let's just forget about everyone else, because in the end, they don't matter. We'll just take everything one day at a time; that's not_ too_ irrational."

"One day at a time?" Gwen repeated.

"Exactly."

"Arthur, you know—"

"Yeah Dad! I'm taking the trash out now!" A young man yelled, as a heavy iron door several yards away from Arthur and Gwen slammed. The two immediately disentangled, both taking generous steps away from each other, Arthur looking at the disgruntled young man who walked in the opposite direction towards a dumpster. He stared at the ground, grumbling incoherent curses as he lifted the lid of the dumpster.. "Old man, why doesn't he get his rusty ass out—" The young man turned, stopping cold in his tracks, as he noticed Arthur and Gwen for the first time.

Gwen clutched to her purse, avoiding eye contact with the stranger, as Arthur's mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.

"Arthur? I didn't see you there," Neil Nelson, the assistant watch repairer of the neighboring shop stated, offering a handshake. Arthur quickly obliged, before Neil turned his attention to Gwen. "Good afternoon, ma'am," he said nodding.

Gwen turned around, giving him a shy smile.

Neil looked closer at Gwen, recognizing her from several months ago when he and his father had to save another boy from Arthur's wrath…and the girl was there. His eyes widened before his blinking rapidly several times. "I u-uhh, gotta jet. Dad's waiting—" Neil didn't even bother finishing his sentence, before rushing back into his shop through the back door.

Gwen smiled at Arthur once the skittish young man had left.

"He won't say anything, trust me." Arthur assured Gwen. "But we should go. It's only a matter of time until someone else shows up."

"You're right."

"Let me drive you home."

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "You may have forgotten…but it might be best that we're not seen with each other too much; especially not at my house."

"You're right…at least for now. I'll see you Monday?"

Gwen smiled. "Yeah, on Monday."

_Title Inspired by: "A Single Moment of Sincerity" by Asking Alexandria_eHe


	12. Chapter 12

_Oh my gosh! Merlin season 4 is premiering in __**six**__ days! I can hardly wait, and I'm sure I'm not alone in my anticipations. Anyway, here is Chapter12. I've been working on this for a long time, and there really is a lot of stuff going on. I hope you all enjoy it, and I don't confuse you guys too much. I think it's the longest chapter to date (I say that every time, don't I…?) Again, sorry for any little mistakes, I had to beta myself again._

_Anyway, let me conclude with a reminder to leave a comment, letting me know your thoughts on this explosive chapter. And don't forget to add me to your 'Story Alert', because trust me; you'll want to see everyone's reactions to this chapter's major event in Chapter 13! :)_

_P.S. to _Elbartering_: Now you don't have to read the same chapters over and over! ;)_

**Chapter 12: The Ability to Create a War**

"Daddy? Elliot? I'm home!" Gwen called out, making her presence known. The only response she received was the low hum of the radio coming from the living room. Setting down her purse and jacket on the kitchen table, she walked to the living room, where she found her brother and father hunched over the ham radio, transfixed on a news report.

"Oh, hey, Gwen," the two parroted once they saw her in the door way.

"Hey, did y'all eat already? Or do I have to fix supper?" Gwen asked, resting her shoulder against the wall.

"You can relax tonight baby, we just ate some leftovers," Tom answered quickly.

Gwen let out a large sigh of relief. "Okay, it's just, I'm tired and not in the right mood for cookin'."

"Hard day at work?" Tom asked his daughter.

Gwen bent over to take off her shoes, placing them at the side of the couch, as she shook her head. "No sir, just a long one. And my feet are really achin'."

Tom nodded in understanding.

"Did you have a good day?"

"It was alright, I guess. Just the usual: fixin' cars," Tom answered with a smile.

"Me too!" Elliot chimed in enthusiastically.

Gwen picked up her shoes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm gonna see what I can scrounge up for supper, then go on to bed."

"So early?" Tom asked concerned, glancing at his old wrist watch.

Gwen scratched her head as she swallowed a yawn. "I need the rest, it's not like I'm missing anything, anyhow."

"Alright, I guess you got a point."

Gwen left the room without out another word, trudging the short distance to the kitchen. Immediately, her eyes focused on the kitchen sink, which was filled to the brim with dirty dishes and pots left from Elliot and Tom's meal. Suppressing a series of frustrated groans, Gwen picked up a dish cloth instead, letting the water from the faucet run until it became warm. Humming a hymn, she opened the cupboard beneath the sink, retrieving the bar of dish soap. Lathering the cloth, she looked out of her kitchen window, just in time to see the lights of a car slowly come down the street. It was the Neely's family car which pulled into their driveway, with Raymond and Lucianne jumping out soon after. The two siblings picked up some grocery bags which were in the back seat, with Gwen watching quietly across the street.

Taking pause, Gwen wondered how the remarkable family managed to continue functioning with relative normalcy, despite the rumors which had permeated every strata of their community.

Lucianne and Ray disappeared into their illuminated home, and Gwen refocused her attention to the dirty dishes. Gwen decided that she wouldn't be committing a grievous sin if she left the pots and plates in the sink until the morning. And as far as eating went, she decided that she wasn't that hungry after all; a full night of sleep was more appealing than a full stomach, at the moment.

"Daddy, Elliot, I'm goin' to bed!" Gwen called out as she walked to the bathroom

A harmony of "'night Gwen!" ensued just before she closed the bathroom door.

Quickly going through her nightly routine, Gwen was in her nightclothes, and closing the blinds on her windows in under fifteen minutes. The thought of going to sleep so early actually made her feel a little childish, but she didn't care; her tired body would thank her in the morning.

Yet, she wasn't ready to go down_ just_ yet. Gwen reasoned that a mere thirty minutes of light reading wouldn't do too much harm. She turned on her side, reaching over to her night stand, where her crisp copy of "Fahrenheit 451" sat. Lying comfortably on her back, Gwen opened the book to the front pages, as she always did. Her soft brown eyes made contact with Arthur's messy penmanship for the hundredth time.

_For Guinevere, hope you don't miss the old one too much. Arthur. _

She smiled as she was reminded of Arthur's unexpected gesture which seemed like ages ago. She happily pondered how much things had changed since then. Arthur was no longer the rich spoiled brat she had met at Cid's Diner, or the handsome yet slightly awkward gentleman who had asked for her help on an essay on afternoon in his bedroom. No, the Arthur she had come to know, the true Arthur Pendragon, was someone she had grown to care for greatly. She knew that he was neither a womanizer nor a bully, instead a caring and compassionate individual who had more integrity than most men she knew.

Gwen smiled to herself, as she finally opened to the page where her bookmarker was. Twenty minutes later, Guinevere Gibson was fast asleep.

* * *

><p>"Arthur, would you move your nasty feet!" Merlin complained in disgust, as he shoved his friend's feet away from him, and off of the couch.<p>

"Hey!" Arthur called out, as he sat up from his reclining position. "It's my house; I'll put my feet wherever the hell I want…and they're not nasty." Arthur added as an afterthought.

As Arthur lifted his legs to their former position, Merlin decided to simply scoot farther down the couch, rather than argue with his friend.

"Hey Merlin, would you mind changing the channel? I'm tired of watching this."

Merlin nodded, walking to the front of the room where the state of the art color television was. Squatting so he could reach the necessary dials, Merlin turned back around to look at Arthur.

"You know what I was thinking?"

"You…thinking?" Arthur laughed.

"Never mind," Merlin said quietly as he faced the television.

Arthur quickly overcame his chuckles. "Sorry, sorry, go ahead."

"So, you know how we always—"

"Hey y'all." Morgana nearly sang as she swung into the room.

"Morgana, I thought you went to bed?" Arthur asked.

"No, not yet. Hey, I came by to see if we could join the two of you?"

Merlin looked up confused. "Who's 'we'?"

Before Morgana had a chance to respond, Vivian came around the corner, standing next to Morgana in the door way.

Arthur immediately sat up in surprise, addressing his cousin. "When'd she get here?" He asked, making no attempt to hide his scorn in light of Vivian's presence.

"Vivian came over to do some studying, she's gonna spend the night."

"I came about two hours ago."

Arthur quickly looked at Merlin, who stood on the floor in front of the television, watching Vivian and Morgana closely. Arthur's lip curled subconsciously as he turned away from his unwanted guest. "Yeah…I guess you guys can sit a spell."

"Vivian, you can sit over there," Morgana pointed to the empty space next to Arthur.

"That was Merlin's seat," Arthur informed his cousin who plopped down on the second sofa which was against the wall.

"Nah, Merlin can sit next to me," Morgana said patting the cushion next to her.

Swallowing a series of grumbles, Arthur put as much space between him and Vivian as possible.

"You know Arthur," Vivian began as she finally sat, "it's been a while since we've done this."

Arthur nodded in silent agreement, as he quickly glanced over his shoulder at Morgana and Merlin. He turned around to face the television, as he realized that his recent 'Vivian intake' had increased dramatically…all because of his cousin. Why couldn't Morgana have found a friend who wasn't nearly as annoying, or perhaps not romantically interested in him? He never did like Morgana's friends.

* * *

><p>Gwen's body woke her up later that night, her dry throat beckoning for a cool drink of water. Groggily, she rose from her bed, stepping out into the dark and quiet hallway. The only noise that could be heard was Elliot's soft snoring emanating from his open bed room door across the hall.<p>

The moonlight spilling in from the living room and the kitchen windows illuminated the way as she lightly tip toed to the kitchen. As quietly as possible, Gwen removed a glass from the top cupboard, filling it up to the brim with cold water from the tap. Her parched lips and scratchy throat thanked her as she greedily gulped the cool liquid, never enjoying water as much in her life. She rested an arm on the counter, as she turned to look at the clock which ticked above the gas stove: 1:30 a.m. Relieved by the fact that she'd have many more hours of much needed rest, Gwen placed the dirty glass in the sink, next to the dishes she had neglected to was earlier. Just as she began to walk back to her room, the sound of car tires coming to a screeching halt pierced her ears with a deafening squeal.

Startled, she involuntarily took a hop back, before curiosity quickly overcame her fear. Walking to the sink once again, Gwen watched an old Ford park itself with little care. Immediately, Gwen knew something was wrong. Not only had she never seen the dingy truck in the neighborhood before, but it was hardly the time for respectable visitors.

"My stars…" Gwen whispered as her eyes widened to the sight of a band of five white men piling out of the pickup truck. An extremely large man hopped out of the rickety blue Ford from the driver's side with a…bat? It was when one of the men picked up a rock from the Neely's front yard, and shattered the front window of the humble home, did Gwen finally let out a yelp of fear.

Immediately, she heard two sets of feet springing up from their bed, and running down the hallway, and towards the kitchen.

"Gwen! What's wrong?" Elliot yelled before he reached his sister, holding her shoulders protectively once he did.

Tom looked at his daughter who was paralyzed in fear, when he heard the sound of breaking glass across the street. Quickly looking out of the kitchen window, which had captivated Gwen's attention, Tom saw that the Neely's had their front door wide open, and a strange Ford pick-up in their driveway. His eyes darted about the surrounding area, as the lights of surrounding homes turned on, and some of their occupants peered onto the street from the slits in their blinds. However, in an instant the shades were hurriedly closed, and the lights switched off as quickly as they had turned on.

Tom swiftly turned to his children, whispering harshly as he pointed to the ground. "Gwen! Elliot! Get away from that window, now!" Tom commanded.

On hearing the urgency in their father's voice, Gwen and Elliot dropped to the ground, following their father to the living room on their hands and knees. Elliot and Gwen put their packs to the sofa, as Tom quickly jumped up, closing the white blinds which covered the large windows of the living room. Elliot turned to his sister as he spoke, his soft voice hardly audible over the swearing and the racket occurring across the street.

"Gwen, what'd you see? What's going on?"

"Those fellas came tearin' down the street. They all hopped out of the car, and the next thing I know, the Neely's front window is smashed to pieces, and their door kicked open. I saw Lucianne—" Gwen had to stop, as sobs overcame her, and her shoulders heaved. "They p-pulled her by her hair, shoving her out of their way!" Gwen covered her face in disparity.

"Sweet Jesus…" Tom whispered, sitting with his children on the ground.

"Daddy, why on earth are we just sitting here? We've gotta do something!"

As Tom saw his daughter prepare to shoot up in defiance, he grabbed her arm, yanking her back to the ground, and next to him. "Gwen, honey, we can't do anything! Not a damn thing!"

Elliot felt like covering his ears, anything to block out the shrill screams of the Neely women begging for help, and the matriarch begging the mob to leave her boy alone. Raymond's criess of pains were mingled with the gruff jeering of his attackers, the terrible sounds echoing throughout the dark, and otherwise lifeless neighborhood.

Gwen covered her mouth, as she felt more hot tears fall to her burning cheeks. She tried to block out the heart-wrenching pleas from Raymond's mother, as she addressed her father with a shaky tone. "Daddy! They're our neighbors." She whispered harshly.

Tom's voice took on a rough and direct quality which he had never had to use with his normally complacent daughter before. "Gwen, don't you think I know that? But as the man of this house, I have the duty to protect my family and our home. Anyone dumb enough to step out there will get it much worse than Raymond is right now!"

"Pop's right Gwen; we can't do anything. We just have to pray that they don't kill him."

"Kill him?" Gwen squealed in panic, as her eyes darted about the pitch black room.

Tom glared at his son for his dreadful choice of words, as he rose to rest his knees on the couch. Raising his index finger, Tom moved a small portion of the blinds to see if he could observe any part of the Neely's home invasion. After a few moments of tense silence in the dark room, Tom let out a sigh of relief, perplexing his two children. "Praise the living God. Look y'all, they're leavin'. See, they just wanted to scare the family, and rough up Raymond as a warning." Tom tried his best to reassure his worried children.

Elliot and Gwen rushed to sit next to their father, they too moving a small portion of the blinds to look across the street. The three front windows of the Neely home had been shattered completely, with thick shards of glass laying on their front lawn. The Gibsons watched with a mild sense of relief as they saw three of the five men walking back to their old car. Elliot looked at his father, bringing his voice down to a hoarse whisper, so Gwen couldn't hear.

"Pop, I know the Klan sent 'em that death threat two weeks ago…but, that aint the Klan."

"I was thinkin' the same thing…they're just youngins, and their sheets? Where are their white sheets?" Tom completed his son's thought.

"Please, Lord, just make them leave." Gwen offered up a quick prayer, wanting the onslaught to stop.

The remaining two men walked out of the humble home, one wiping the blood off of the bat with a rag, and throwing it on the front lawn. The same man began to bark orders at the other four.

"Boys, y'all know what to do next."

The small mob could be heard cursing, and blood curdling screams were still emanating from the small Neely household. However, the rest of the neighborhood appeared to be lifeless. Every other family in the community was huddled together in a room with no windows, praying that the mob wouldn't move on to their area of the neighborhood.

"What the hell…" Elliot drew out slowly, as he gulped.

The Gibson watched with baited breath as all five men huddled around the pick-up, instead of fleeing like they had anticipated. They moved toward the trunk in a singular motion.

"Why aren't they leaving?" Elliot asked, turning his father, but he received no answer.

The reason for the mob's prolonged stay soon became evident as a large box was removed from the vehicles trunk. The cardboard box was filled with glass bottles, filled with clear liquid, and a thick cloth piece of cloth attached to neck of each.

The large one who appeared to be the ring leader, dropped his bat, and let out a loud whistle, as he fished violently in his pockets, pulling out a lighter a few moments later. "Hold one over here, would ya?"

One of the remaining four men picked up one of the bottles, holding it in front of the large man by the neck. The leader lit the cloth at the end of the cocktail bottle, which incited clapping and diabolical howls of joy from the group. The gasoline cocktail was thrown into the house through one of the shattered windows, instantaneously producing thick flames in the front room of the Neely home.

"Burn to hell, you grimy bastards!" One of the men (who had an unusually gruff voice) yelled, he too lighting his own cocktail.

"Gimme another one Alex," the leader snapped, turning to a man in the group who stood idly. "Come on boys; keep 'em comin'!" The ring leader yelled like a coyote, his demeanor becoming almost maniacal, as the mob's silhouettes were dramatized by the thick orange flames behind them.

"No! Stop it! Leave them alone!" Gwen shrieked in horror, banging on the window in a desperate attempt to stop the slaughter.

Her loud plea was easily heard across the street, garnering the attention of a couple of the men her were bending over the cardboard box. Their gazes snapped to the Gibson abode directly across the way, as one put down his unlit bottle, walking to the front of the Neely drive way. Putting his hand to his forehead as a visor, he surveyed the surrounding homes.

It was in that moment, that Guinevere Gibson saw the perpetrator as clear as day, the hellish flames behind him illuminating his pale face with a radiant glow. As she looked into the eyes of the man, she felt all of the air escape her lungs and the beat of her heart cease. She blinked rapidly, sure that the recognition was a mirage...but she knew that she was lucid.

Elliot snapped at his sister. "Gwen, Shut up! Before—"

"Hey, did y'all hear that?" The young man from the mob called out loudly behind him, pointing across the street, directly at the Gibson's home.

Tom and Elliot simultaneously grabbed Gwen, pulling her down with them to the carpeted ground, the three landing in a heap. The two men could feel Gwen shaking like a leaf underneath their grasp, unable to control her loud sobs.

"They're gonna _kill_ them! We can't just let 'em do it!" Gwen pleaded in vain, as Elliot's large hand quickly covered his sister's mouth.

Tom angrily let go of his hysterical daughter, who's only intention, it seemed, was to make things worse for the already vulnerable family. "Guinevere Louise Gibson! You better hush your mouth this very instant, or so help me _God_!" Tom whispered harshly, pointing at his frenzied daughter, who silenced immediately after a series of short hiccups. Elliot held onto his sister, as he watched his father spring up, and tear out of the room.

"Pop! Where are you goin'?"

"To get my gun!" Tom replied quickly without looking back.

Elliot and Gwen lay sprawled on the floor, as they heard the deafening crackling of the poorly constructed wooden beams succumbing to the powerful flames which destroyed everything in its path. Gwen covered her ears, to shield them from the piercing screams of anguish mixed with diabolical laughter and cheering.

"Elliot, we have to do something! Ray's probably so battered, that he won't be able to get out of the house. He's your _friend_ Elliot!" She pushed her brother off of her with all her might, not wanting to be confined. "Raymond and Lucianne could be in there right now, burning or suffocating to death! And the cowardly _men_ of this neighborhood are all watching it happen!" Gwen wiped her eyes, not wanting to cry anymore. "Well I don't want the death of the Neely's to be on my conscience!"

Elliot looked away, feeling convicted as his sister's words pierced his heart. He thought of his mother, who would've raced out the very moment that she saw the intruders, and chase them off with whatever she could get her hands on. And here he was, her son, cowering out of sight on his living room floor, possibly letting his friends burn to death.

"You're right, Gwen…just—" Elliot stood up. "Just wait here, you hear?" Without much thinking, Elliot opened the front door, and immediately felt the heat emanating from the Neely house caress his dark skin. Leaving the door open, but taking a step back in the house, Elliot watched as the thick flames engulfed the bottom floor of the house, and they were moving to the second level by the moment. The sheer brightness of the blaze made Elliot squint, as he turned to see the men of the surrounding homes begin to leave their sanctuaries with the same intentions as him.

"Go on and get!" Elliot could hear one man yell, resulting in similar shouts from the other courageous men.

"Boy, what the hell do you think you're doin'?" Elliot heard his father yell out in horror. He turned, to see his father standing with his shotgun, terrified that his son was exposing their home with the door wide open.

Elliot watched his sister run to the kitchen, before addressing his father. "Pop, other people are leaving their homes, it might be too late!"

Tom set his gun on the table, quickly moving to stand next to Elliot in the doorway. Elliot was correct indeed, for Tom watched his fellow neighbors migrate from all directions to the Neely home in haste.

A smile of hope appeared on Tom's face, as he quickly turned to his daughter. "Gwen, you stay here. Elliot and I are gonna go help them."

"Go, go!" Gwen encouraged them from the kitchen sink, as she watched her brother and father sprint out of the front door. She took a bucket from the bottom cabinet, beginning to fill it up with water.

Most of the mob had retreated to the truck by now, and the rickety vehicle roared to life. Two of the men remained, standing in the Neely's driveway, each holding an unlit cocktail, looking at the emerging colored men with a fear which delayed their movements. The leader, who was also the driver of the Ford, yelled at the two of them, slamming his hand against the driver's door.

"Hurry up y'all, the cops could be comin'!"

Another poked his head out of the open window. "Roger, Alex throw them damn things. It don't matter where!"

The two men looked at each other, before pointing at the house to the left of the Neely's, and taking a brief moment to deliberate. Taking a quick look behind them at the armed men who were getting closer by the second, they lit the cocktails, speedily throwing them into the windows of the even smaller house to the left.

"C'mon boys!" The driver yelled, putting the truck into gear. The last two men jumped in, and the car filled with the angry assailants tore out of the neighborhood as fast as it had come. Some colored men threw rocks at the car as it sped out of the neighborhood, and managed to shatter a rear window of the truck, some trying to follow the vehicle, but they were soon left coughing up the car's filthy exhaust.

Across the street, Gwen turned off the faucet, her bucket full to the brim with cold water. She stopped, as she watched the small home to the left of the Neely's catch on fire as well.

"Ol' Bess! That's Ms. Bess' house!" She heard the women who were just leaving their homes shriek.

Gwen wasted no time, as she leapt off of her threshold, bucket in tow, accompanied by countless women each carrying a bucket of their own.

A severely battered and unrecognizable Raymond Neely was assisted out of his home, carried completely by two men. He fell to a heap on the sidewalk (which was a safe distance away from the house) next to his two sisters who were carried out just moments before. Their arms were stretched out in grief, towards the only home they had known their whole life. Gwen watched another three men run inside of the fiery house to save Raymond's mother and third sister.

Gwen joined the line of people passing down buckets, in a vain attempt to suppress the greedy flames. Everywhere she turned, she could hear the laments of a different woman, and the cries of a different child, asking their mother what was happening. Gwen's head threatened to explode from overload as she caught tidbits of various conversations.

"Did someone phone the fire department?"

"Sure did, and the sheriff too. We called 'em as soon as them rednecks came!"

"Don't count on them gettin' here any time soon!"

Gwen turned frantically to catch different pieces of conversation, trying to gather as much information as she could, while passing the buckets that came in her direction.

"Praise God! All of the Neely's are out. Look at poor Raymond!"

Gwen let out a sigh of relief as she saw her father come out of the Neely home with the mother of the family. Turning her attention to the second house which was set a light, Gwen watched as Elliot and two other men carried out the sole occupant; a woman in her eighties. She coughed violently as the two men who carried her tried to soothe her, and offered their empty promises. For no amount of delicate words could calm Ol' Bess, who watched the sole object she had to show for a lifetime of hard work burn to the ground, along with all of the relics of her recently deceased husband.

"Dear Lord!" The old woman cried, as the men set her down on the sidewalk as well. Several women rushed to her side to comfort her, as she latched onto them like a small child. "Why?" She sobbed into one the arms of a neighborhood woman who stooped to comfort her.

Gwen knew the old woman personally, and broke off the bucket line to go see if she could be of any aid to the grieving woman. However, she was stopped en route, as she was forcefully shoved into someone's arms.

"Child, are you alright?" Stella asked, pulling away from Gwen to get a better look at her.

Gwen took a few moments to recover, surprised that Stella was able to find her in the crowd which was getting larger and louder by the minute.

"Yes ma'am, I am." Gwen reassured the woman, as Alice emerged from behind Stella, she too giving her a hug.

"Where are the authorities?" Gwen asked as she watched the two homes sadly, a new batch of tears welling up.

Alice pulled her cotton robe tighter around her body, as she turned from the macabre sight. "Trust me honey; they won't be here for a while. But it's too late anyhow."

"Aint that convenient?" Stella scoffed.

Gwen turned away from Stella, as she watched the two homes illuminate the entire neighborhood, and the sense of bitter helplessness crashed over her like a wave. Guinevere Gibson had never felt as feeble in her entire life.

* * *

><p>Uther Pendragon slammed the telephone which sat next to his bed in a fury, running straight to the stairs, making his way down to the second floor.<p>

"Arthur! Morgana! Wake up!" He pleaded loudly, banging on his son's bedroom door, then moving on to his niece's.

Arthur opened his door first, with Morgana joining him soon after, with Vivian popping up next to her. Both girls were in their night clothes, yet Arthur was still in his good clothes, just about to go to sleep.

"Uncle, what is it?" Morgana asked alarmed, her voice hoarse.

The graying man took a few moments to catch his breath, before explaining his unusual behavior. "I just got a call from a friend at the sheriff's office. Apparently two homes in Southern Dearborn have been set on fire."

"_Set_ on fire, in Southern Dearborn? In the colored community?" Morgana asked, her pitch increasing with fear.

Uther nodded as he swallowed. "Apparently—"

"Wait!" Arthur burst out interrupting his father. "Most of our staff lives there!"

"Yes," Uther nodded solemnly, already aware of the fact.

Arthur became frenzied. "Whose homes were set on fire? Do they work _here_? Is anyone hurt?"

Uther shook his head quickly. "I don't know much more, son. My friend from the department called, because he knew that most of our staff lives down there, and he wanted to let us know first."

"Well we have to go make sure everyone is alright!" Arthur stated, as if it was totally obvious.

"Arthur, are you insane? If either of us step foot in _that_ neighborhood, we'll be goners!" Morgana added shrilly. The usual talkative Vivian was at a loss for words, as she stood behind her friend, only able to muster a pathetic nod.

"Don't be ridiculous Morgana! We have friends there, God only knows who was hurt." Arthur countered angrily.

"Friends? Those people are not our friends!" Uther interjected, in an attempt to add reason to the conversation. He watched the features on his son harden, causing him to choose his next words carefully. "Arthur, there's nothing we can do now; they're not at our mercy. The only thing we can do is wait 'til the morning, we'll know if it was one of our workers then."

Arthur looked at his father, completely astonished and repulsed at the same time. "Wait 'til the morning? Father, I can't wait that long! May I remind you, that Stella, the woman who practically _raised_ me lives in down there. Clarence, the man who has been your chauffer for nearly two decades,has his children _and_ grandchildren in that neighborhood. And Guinevere, my—" Arthur quickly ended his dangerous train of thought. "I'm going." The stubborn young man looked at his father, daring him to challenge him. As the young Pendragon tried to step past his door frame, his father blocked his passage with full force.

"Arthur, I beg you; reconsider. Those people are going to be furious, and the last thing they'll want to see is a white face that isn't the sheriff or a fire-fighter."

Arthur shook off his father's arm which blocked his way. "_Those people _have given the better parts of their lives to care for this family and maintain our home. If it was the Estate which went up in flames, neither of them would think twice about coming to help us. So what does that say about this family?" Arthur gave his father a suggestive once over, and Uther reluctantly let his son pass.

Arthur stopped at the steps, turning to look at his cousin and father, whose very presence at that moment nauseated him.

Uther watched his father run down the step against his wishes, and he turned to his worried niece. "It's alright Morgana, I'm sure everything's fine; you know how your cousin is." Uther said shaking his head with a feigned smile, and forced chuckle.

"I'm going back to bed, Uncle." She informed with little emotion.

As Uther slowly trotted the steps to the third level of his home, he could hear Vivian ask rather loudly: "Who the hell is Guinevere?"

Arthur sprinted to his car, his mind filled with all the worst case scenarios as he jumped into his Aston-Martin. With little time in between, Arthur had started up the engine, and sped off of the estate, hardly waiting for the gargantuan iron gates to open. Arthur couldn't make his tires spin fast enough, as finally reached the main road.

He didn't know how he'd be able to cope if something had happened to Stella, or to Gwen. But why would anyone set their homes on fire? Stella was a poor and childless woman who lived quietly with her husband, and was loved by everyone because she would treat anyone as her own. And Gwen, his sweet Guinevere, didn't have it in her to harm a flea, and he couldn't imagine why anyone would have malice towards her or her family.

Due to drag racing speeds, Arthur Pendragon was able to cut the travel time in half to ten minutes, and was preparing to turn into Gwen's neighborhood. However, the wailing of fire sirens behind him made him pull over onto the road's shoulder.

"Why the hell are you just getting here!" Arthur yelled hitting his wheel in fury as the two fire trucks passed. Arthur decided that it would be best to leave his car off of the road, move into the neighborhood by foot.

Stepping out of the vehicle, Arthur was taken back; he could literally feel the heat emanating from the two homes which he was now close enough to see. Wasting not another precious moment, Arthur ran as fast as his legs could take him. As soon as he entered the neighborhood, he could see a large mass of people, and his ears began to ring from all the noise. In one direction, he heard the shrieks of women and children, in another the loud crackling of wood, mixed with the loud hum of the hoses, and lastly the discontented shouts of the mass.

"Holy Mother of God…" Arthur whispered in fright as he finally saw the source of the large fire. The remnants of two homes were being hosed down; though they were completely destroyed. The only reason the fire department was there to make sure that the fire didn't spread to any other part of the neighborhood.

The young Pendragon stopped, his attention caught by an extremely old and wrinkled woman sprawled on the sidewalk, as two young mothers stooped next to her, trying to encourage her to sit up. To his left, he watched two men carry a battered third man into the back of a car. Covered completely in blood, his arms were bent in extremely unnatural positions to the side, as he was gently placed into the back vehicle. Arthur's mouth dropped open as he looked to the man's trousers, which were burnt along with the skin of his bare feet. The groans of pain which escaped his bloody lips were like none Arthur had heard before.

He squinted, trying to get a better view, when he spotted Gwen next to the car. She was talking to another colored man who Arthur had never seen, but who gave her a kiss on the cheek before jumping into the passenger seat of the car.

Arthur felt like a one hundred pound weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he saw Gwen, safe and in one piece. She turned in Arthur's direction, and their gazes immediately locked. She smiled for the first time that night, as she took a step towards Arthur, still far away.

"Arthur, what are you doing here?"

Arthur heard the question addressed to him from behind, and he turned to see Stella with an extremely puzzled look on her face. Another wave of joy overcame Arthur, as he couldn't resist but take the woman captive in a bone crushing hug, not caring who saw it, or what they thought of it.

Stella tenderly received the embrace, as Arthur spoke, letting go after his first words. "Stella, what the hell happened here?" Arthur yelled, his moment of joy overcast as he watched large puffs of steam come from the two homes. "The moment Father told me, I came as fast as I could!"

Stella shook her head sadly. "Bless you Arthur, you've always had a good heart." She turned to the homes, whose remnants were being doused with water by the late arriving fire crew. "That colored boy whose been messin' 'round with the Councilman's daughter," Stella pointed at the larger of the two homes. "That is—_was_ his house."

Arthur covered his mouth in shock. "Oh, no…"

"Some white fellas came a runnin' through, and roughed the poor boy up, done near killed him. Obviously, they lit the houses up afterward. And that second house," Stella's voice became angry as she finished her story. "A poor ol' woman lives in that house, all by her lonesome. Never hurt anyone in her life, and know her entire life's work is burnin' to the ground, right before her eyes."

Arthur couldn't bring himself to speak, as he looked around the crowd, which was dotted with angry and sullen people alike. His attention was caught by someone else, however. "Is that the sheriff?" Arthur asked, alarmed.

Stella turned to see the sheriff's vehicle, along with three other squad cars pull into neighborhood with their sirens on, and the crowd parting slightly to let them through.

"Stella! Why the hell is the sheriff _just _getting here?" Arthur asked outraged yet again. It seemed that the people who were supposed to be protecting the people were all on a coffee break at the same time!

Alice stood next to Stella, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at the sheriff, answering Arthur's question. "They were probably making sure that them rednecks had plenty of time to skedaddle, lettin' any evidence burn to the ground."

Arthur stood on his tip toes, trying to see if he could still find Gwen. However, she had moved, and more people were pushing past him, angrily making their way towards the police.

"The Klan can just run into this town, and do whatever the hell they want!"

"Whose house will be next?"

"They nearly beat that poor boy to death!"

Arthur looked around to find the person who voiced each complaint, and he noticed that he was receiving suspicious glares from every direction. However, Arthur felt a hand on his shoulder, as he turned around startled, his gaze crashing with a deputy from the police department.

"Can I speak with you, sir?" The young deputy asked.

Arthur looked quickly at Stella and Alice, before nodding towards the officer in agreement.

Arthur followed the man to his squad car, keeping his gaze to the ground to avoid the hard glares he was receiving.

"Did I do something wrong, officer? I was just—"

The officer gave Arthur an apprehensive once over. "No, nothin' wrong. But, I was just wonderin' what a young white man was doin' down here…at this time?"

"Excuse me?"

The officer took a pad and pencil from his front pocket. "All I'm askin' is: do you know what happened here, son?" The man in uniform asked, pointing towards the firemen.

"No sir, I hardly know a thing."

The officer liked his lips, as he tapped his pencil on the notebook, thinking of how to phrase his thought. "Well, I suggest that you take whatever sense the good Lord gave you, and skip on outta here."

Arthur folded his arms, as he couldn't help but become defensive. "And why would I want to do that officer? I've done nothing wrong."

The tall officer ran a hand over his mouth, as he looked around. "Listen boy, I'm just trying to do you a favor, see? The Negro's from these parts, are damn near animals, and they'd tear a white man apart the first chance they got." The officer snarled, pointing at the agitated mass who his fellow officers and commander were trying to maintain.

Arthur's eyes narrowed as the officer's prejudices became obvious.

The officer continued, putting away his useless notepad and pencil. "Now listen up, boy. Some white gentlemen from on yonder rolled in, and set these here fires. These colored folk never were too keen on white fellas anyhow, and now is not a good time for you to be here, son. So, I suggest you get to steppin', 'cause this trash heap aint a suitable place for a fine young man like yourself."

Arthur soaked up every venomous word the officer offered, maintaining silence and showing little reaction to the words which greatly offended him. "I don't think you know who you're speaking to, officer…" Arthur looked at the man's name tag which was pinned to his breast. "Officer Cooper. But I am Arthur _Pendragon_, and I can go wherever the hell I please. And I want to stay here. I know these people, and they sure aint animals."

The deputy involuntarily took a step back as Arthur's sir name registered. "You're the P-Pendragon boy?" He stuttered in amazement. "What are you doin' down here boy—I mean sir?"

Arthur was able to maintain a straight face, despite the humor of Officer Cooper's reaction to his identity. "Most of my staff works here, and I wanted to make sure that none of them were injured. I think you should be helpin' the victims here, not interrogating me." Arthur stated matter-of-factly.

The officer snorted, as he took a look at the charred remnants of the homes. "You know what, stay if you want." He said putting his hands up. "But one thing I do know is that that bastard rapist Raymond Neely lives in these parts, and he deserves whatever's comin' to him. I didn't know that the Pendragons associated with such filth." The officer gave Arthur one more once over, which silently vocalized the entire repulse he felt at Arthur's decision. He decided that the battle was not worth fighting, and he promptly turned away.

Arthur shook his head disapprovingly at the officer, but he quickly forgot about him. His next task was to find Guinevere again, and make sure that she was alright in every sense of the word. He moved back into the thick of the crowd where he had seen her earlier, but he only found himself lost in a sea of people, not even sure where to look for her. Perhaps, she had gone back home, or followed the battered man he had seen to the hospital, or—

"Arthur!"

Arthur had no time respond, as a sudden impact was forced to his chest, and a feminine physique pressed against him, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

"Guinevere," he whispered, hugging her back securely. The split moment of joy was interrupted as Arthur was reminded that the two couldn't appear too close, not with all of Gwen's peers around, and untangled himself from her.

"Arthur, what are you doing here?" Gwen whispered, as she stepped towards him, so only he could hear her inquiry.

"I heard about the fires, and I had to come. Are you alright, did those bastards hurt you?"

"No, no, I'm fine."

Arthur sighed in relief. "Guinevere, you've been crying…I can tell."

Self-consciously, Gwen ran a hand down her tear streaked cheeks. "I'm okay Arthur, I promise. My house is right across the street," Gwen turned, distinguishing it for Arthur. "Those hoodlums didn't go anywhere else though; we were safe."

"Thank God. Believe me when I say that I couldn't get here fast enough."

Gwen looked around nervously at Arthur's last words. "Arthur I'm happy to see you, really I am—"

"Gwen, where's your family?"

Gwen wiped her forehead. "They went to the hospital with Raymond…the boy who got beaten to a bloody pulp."

"Here, I'll take you there, if you want to."

"No, no. I don't think I'd be able to hold it together if I saw Raymond in the mess that he is now."

Arthur began to raise his hand to wipe away a tear which fell on Gwen's cheek, but he quickly remembered his surroundings, and retracted.

Gwen noticed the gesture, and realized that it wouldn't be wise for Arthur to stay in her neighborhood for much longer. "Arthur, you should go."

"No, no, don't worry about me. I _wan_t to stay with you, just for a little while. I want to make sure you're safe."

"Please, Arthur I'll be fine, these people are like kin. But you didn't see what happened here, you didn't sit and watch a group of thugs burn down two homes as they nearly beat to death an unarmed man. I-I fear people will see you, and automatically start thinking things—"

Arthur nodded, seeing Gwen's reason, but not wanting to adhere to it. He still didn't feel that she was safe in her neighborhood, especially with her family on the other side of town. Arthur tilted his head down to Guinevere's ear. "One more thing, before I leave."

Gwen nodded.

"Who did this" Tell me now, and I swear, I'll make them pay for this shit."

Gwen looked Arthur in the eye, as she felt more hot tears fall to her cheeks. "I…" She looked away from Arthur, before reconnecting with his blue eyes. "I don't know. I couldn't see their faces, it was too dark." Gwen hardly whispered, as hundred swords pierced her heart as she struggled to say the words.

"Okay, okay." Arthur said sadly, hoping that Gwen would have seen the criminals, so he could go and beat them to a bloody pulp like they did to Raymond. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

The only motion Gwen was able to muster was the slightest nod of her head, waving to Arthur as she saw him disappear into the crowd once again.

_Title Inspired by: "The Ability to Create a War" by A Skylit Drive_


	13. Chapter 13

_First, I __**have**__ to start by thanking you all for the absolutely amazing response for Chapter 12! I'm happy you all enjoyed it, and I want to thank you all for being so supportive, and I appreciate the fact that you take the time out of your busy schedules to read my story, and comment thoughtfully on the chapter/plot, along with your predictions for the chapters to come. I must add, that your comments really make me laugh so much, you have no idea! _

_[Shout out to "__**Lara Smith**__": your comments are guaranteed to make me crack up and say "ahh" at how thoughtful and analytical your comments are; thank you.]_

_Don't forget to comment and add me to your "Story Alert" (if I'm not already there!). This chapter is really long, just because there were a lot of issues to address. And plus, I haven't updated for a while, so this is my present to you all! :) _

_P.S. I apologize in advance for any mistakes, I proofed it quickly because I wanted to get it up before the week's end._

**Chapter 13: Not a Single Word About This**

Gwen felt her shoulder being shaken gently, and her eyes opened slowly to behold her father sitting next to her on the edge of her bed. Gwen's hand flew to her forehead in an attempt shield her eyes from the rising sun, whose rays poured through her window, and were aimed directly at her line of vision.

"Daddy?" She asked groggily, sitting up.

"Hey, it's time to wake up baby," Tom encouraged; his usually smooth voice was raspy and cold.

"What time did you and Elliot get back? I never heard y'all come in."

Tom wiped his red eyes, as he forced a smile. "Oh, about two hours ago."

Gwen looked at her alarm clock. "It's seven o'clock!"

"Elliot and I had to stay with the Neely's, they needed us."

Gwen's shoulders slumped, as the surreal chain of events from the night before all came back to her in a reel. "Did Raymond make it? Are all of his sisters okay?"

"Well, his family wasn't hurt; but Raymond, he sure aint okay."

"Is it bad?"

"Well, baby, the boy's got some bad head injuries from that bat which they beat him with, and the doctor's aint sure if there's any brain injury."

"Brain injury, oh Lord."

"Most of his legs got second degree burns, and doctor said he probably won't be able to open his eyes for another four days, and he's got several broken ribs to boot. But that boy's a tough one, I'll tell ya Gwen; it's only a miracle that he aint dead. He wasn't able to talk or nothin' last night. But me, Elliot, and some other good folk stayed to be with the Neelys. They're all grieving somethin' fierce."

"I bet," Gwen said solemnly, telling herself that by the end of the week she'd have to stop in to see them for herself. "And Ol' Bess, how's she?" Gwen asked with a glimmer of hope; perhaps the old woman was in a better condition.

"She's as fit as a fiddle. It wasn't her time yet, I guess. Last night, Clarence drove her on yonder to a relative's house."

"At least that's some good news? But…things just aint fair Daddy. All of this, it's just evil for the sake of evil."

"I know Gwen, I know. Baby, those thugs, they'll get their own."

"But when Daddy?" Gwen asked looking up at her father. "It just seems like people can treat us any way they want, and get away with it! Get away with being downright criminals! Well I'm sick of it! I'm sick and tired of bein' tossed around and mistreated just because of who I am!"

Tom rubbed Gwen's back, as he empathized with his daughter. "Gwen, if we just looked at all the bad folks in the world, and start takin' a list of every time we're wronged…life just wouldn't be worth livin', you hear?"

Gwen nodded, though she had heard her father's favorite mantra many times before.

"Now, I know you're upset, and you have every right to be. What you just said; it's true. But we live in a fallen world, and while we don't like it, we sure are forced to accept it."

"Is that it Daddy? Am I just supposed to accept this for the rest of my life? 'Cause if so, _that's _when life isn't worth living."

"No, no, Gwen. You've gotta have hope baby…but some things take more time to change."

"Yes sir," Gwen whispered.

"Now we watched them boys come into our neighborhood last night, and have their way with innocent people. But we're just giving 'em satisfaction if we despair any, you hear? So we remember what happened, but only 'cause it'll make us stronger. You just have to… brush the dust off, keep your chin up high, and show them racist thugs what makes a true colored; it's all heart." Tom looked down at his daughter. "Does that make any sense Gwen?"

Gwen hugged her father back, as she nodded. "You always know the right things to say Daddy, thank you."

Tom smiled at his daughter's kind words. "We'll get through this Gwen. It's a setback; not a defeat, you'll see."

* * *

><p>As Gwen stepped off of her threshold to meet Alice, she did her best to avert her gaze from the charred remnants of Raymond and Ol' Bess' homes across the street.<p>

The car ride with Alice to the Pendragon Estate was long, and painstakingly quiet. Neither woman uttered a word beside "howdy", and "good morning". On the twenty minute drive, Gwen stole glances at Alice, and she realized that her face almost seemed to be harder, and her eyes darker. Gwen turned away quickly, looking out her window, wondering if she looked the same.

Gwen was thankful for the silence, because it meant that she wouldn't be forced to carry on conversation. Yet, it also gave her plenty of time to think over every minute detail from last night, most specifically her brief encounter with Arthur. Though she fell asleep convincing herself that her lie was for the greater good, guilt still consumed her. She didn't like to lie, but reminding herself that it was only to protect her family made the bitter pill a little easier to swallow.

_But…I'll tell him eventually, maybe when he's not as upset. Yes, once I know that he won't fly off the handle, I'll tell him; he'll understand. When the time is right, then I'll gently—_

"Girl!" Alice nearly barked, snapping Gwen out of her thoughts. Alice stood outside of the car, watching Gwen sit in the parked vehicle for several long moments in a deep daze. "Gwen, honey, it's time to get steppin'." Alice said clapping impatiently.

Gwen blinked as she found herself on the Pendragon Estate, sitting in the employee parking lot. "Sorry Miss Alice, I wasn't payin' attention."

"It's alright," Alice accepted the apology with a sad sigh.

The two women began to walk with each other to the employee entrance of the home, when another maid took stride with them, addressing Alice.

"Did you hear what some mob did to that poor boy Ray Neely last night?"

"Honey, I was there!" Alice responded with a little too much enthusiasm for Gwen's comfort. She looked at the two women, lost in conversation, deciding that it would be best if she walked on her own.

Finally entering the Pendragon home, Gwen was surrounded by the throng of servants who were preparing for work just as she. "Excuse me, pardon me," she whispered as she mulled through the bodies, making her way towards the kitchen. She found Stella, creating another 'breakfast creation' for Uther Pendragon, humming as she turned off the glass stove. Marge stood at the counter, cutting fruit, and it wasn't until Gwen cleared her throat when the two women looked up.

"How's it goin' Gwen?" the two parroted, nearly in uninson.

Gwen's attempted smile was closer to a grimace as she responded. "I'm goin', I'm safe, thanks be to God."

"I hear that," Stella said walking next to Marge. "How's your papa, and your brother?"

Gwen pushed some hair behind her ears as she nodded. "Their fine, Miss Stella. Daddy and Elliot were at the hospital 'til this morning with the Neely's."

Stella gave the tired girl a sad onceover, as she swallowed all of the questions she had for her; they could wait. "I won't hold you long, child."

Gwen smiled at Stella's gentle understanding, as she left the kitchen without another word.

Walking into the living room, Gwen sighed loudly as she found glasses and popcorn kernels about the room. "What a mess," she huffed, walking to the small coffee table. Reaching for the glass, she saw Merlin walking to her from the foyer.

"Gwen!" Merlin exclaimed, displaying a bright smile on his pale face.

"Merlin," Gwen said gently with a smile.

Without giving her the chance to object, Merlin pulled the maid in for a hug, with Gwen reciprocating. "I'm so happy you're safe." Merlin confessed, laughing. He continued as he pulled away. "Arthur told me about everything this morning, and I couldn't believe it. Everyone in your family is safe though, right?"

"Yeah, they are. Two of my neighbors who live across the way had their houses burned down."

"That just isn't right. Would you reckon it had anything to do with the Councilman's daughter?" Merlin asked the obvious.

"I'm absolutely positive it did. That family is quiet and respectable, that's the only reason anyone would trouble 'em."

"But, the authorities_ are_ on it…right?"

Gwen snorted in apparent cynicism. "If you want to call it that. No one's expectin' anything though."

Merlin stuck a hand in his pocket, as he let out a whistle. "You know Gwen, I really don't know what to say." Merlin confessed sullenly.

"It's okay, you're kind words are enough."

Merlin nodded, as he gave his wristwatch a quick glance. "Alright, I gotta jet, we'll talk later."

"Bye Merlin."

Merlin gave Gwen a sweet smile, before leaving the room, stopping at front of the stairway, yelling up the steps. "Hey Arthur, Morgana! I'm gonna go wait by my car! Would y'all hurry up, now?" Before opening the front door to leave the home, Merlin gave Gwen a brisk wave goodbye, waiting for her to respond before walking out of view.

Gwen's attention was immediately caught by Morgana's agitated voice, and Arthur's heavy footsteps coming down the staircase.

"Arthur, would you just quit it already?" Morgana asked tensely. "I don't wanna talk 'bout it—" Morgana stopped midsentence, as she saw Gwen standing at the bottom of the steps. She stopped abruptly, almost causing her cousin to run into her from behind. Morgana's hand flew to her mouth as she gasped, laughing as she flew down the remainder of steps. "My goodness gracious, Gwen!" Morgana nearly sang in excitement, taking the maid captive in a bone crushing embrace.

As Gwen stood there, she realized that she had never received so many hugs in her life, nor had she felt so much love in a short period of time. Gwen would have sworn later that she heard Morgana sniffling.

"Gwen, I'm so happy you weren't hurt," Morgana exclaimed joyously, unable to stop laughing as she spun Gwen around in her arms. Gwen's shift in position afforded her a quick look at Arthur, who looked extremely…perplexed.

"I'm fine, I'm fine Morgana but I won't be able to breathe soon."

Morgana let go, letting out another laugh. "Arthur said the two homes which were burned down were right across the street from you, is that true? Were you scared any?"

Gwen looked away for a moment, not wanting to dwell on last night's events anymore then she had to. "I watched the entire thing, I just thank God that I'm still alive," Gwen said honestly, glancing at Arthur again.

Morgana noticed the quick aversion of Gwen's gaze, and she too looked over her shoulder at Arthur. "When I found out, I was just so confused. Your community is so safe, filled with good people, I reckon. It's just a scary thought to think that human beings are capable of such evil!"

"Yes, but I don't want to dwell on it too much." Gwen admitted, hoping Morgana would catch the hint she was tossing.

Morgana swallowed, nodding, mustering as much empathy as she could. She rested her hand on Gwen's arm. "We'll catch up soon?"

"Sure," Gwen partially agreed, glancing at the totally silent Arthur.

"Come on Arthur, we'll be late," Morgana addressed her cousin, walking to the front door.

Arthur walked past Gwen silently, following his cousin as she stepped outside. He closed the door quickly behind him, yet with a little more force than intended.

Morgana turned around abruptly, looking at the door which Arthur had practically slammed, before she raised an eyebrow at his behavior. "What's eatin' you, sunshine?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Real nice act back there, Morgana." Arthur stated icily as he moved past his cousin.

"Excuse me?" Morgana asked, immediately offended.

"Pretending that you actually give a damn about Guinevere, that was_ really_ rich," Arthur snorted bitterly.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Morgana asked sharply, crossing her arms over her chest.

Arthur stopped walking, turning to look at his cousin. "Last night, you weren't willing to lift a finger to help her. And then today, you go to her, actin' like the sky is falling. You're a real piece of work."

Morgana put a hand to her hip. "Oh, and you give a damn about her, Arthur?"

Arthur shook his head in sheer amazement as he took the few steps necessary to get to his car, glancing quickly at Merlin who waited inside of his.

Morgana stood in front of Arthur, not satisfied yet. "Arthur, I don't know what your problem has been lately, but don't take out all of your pent up anger on me, okay?"

"I'm not taking anything out on you."

"You're practically accusing me of being two-faced."

_Practically? I did._ "Listen, Morgana; it's disturbing when I think to last night: when you find out about two arsons in your _friend's _neighborhood and you're able to go right back to sleep!" Arthur finally let the lid off of his temper. "That's just a little sick, don't you think?"

"We can't all be little hot heads like you, you know!"

"I wasn't being a hot head, I was thinking of someone else other than myself!" Arthur snapped, taking a step towards Morgana. He watched her eyes narrow in anger.

"Last night, those people were in a frenzy. I had no idea what would happen to me if I went into that neighborhood!" Morgana laid out her defense.

Arthur blinked, surprised that such callous words were coming from Morgana. "Those people? You sound just like Father!" He pointed at Morgana. "Maybe you really are his daughter; y'all have so much in common."

"What! Arthur—" Morgana paused, taking a deep breath, as she realized her voice was becoming shrill with her mounting anger.

"You go around thinkin' that you're better than everyone else, all because you have a colored for a friend. But you're no better than the rest of them, you're no better than Father!"

"Are you callin' me a racist?" Morgana nearly squealed, her voice reaching unchartered decibel levels. "How _dare_ you insinuate such things! If anyone's a racist here, it's you!" Morgana yelled pointing directly at her cousin.

"Me, a racist? I rushed into Gwen's neighborhood, potentially risking my life, and I'm the bad guy here?"

"You've had some kind of change of heart recently, but don't forget who's talking here! This is coming from the man who would run around with his friends, tormenting and cussin' coloreds for sport!"

Arthur opened his mouth, preparing a quick sharp defense, but as he heard Morgana's last words, his mouth closed. Is this what she really thought of him? Sure he had a past…but so did she. "So, I see we're mudslinging now; really mature." Arthur cracked a cynical smile, as he unlocked his car door. He looked at his cousin one last time in disbelief, before finally getting into his car. As he turned the engine over, Arthur watched Morgana stomp to her car via his rear view window.

As he did so, he wondered who it was he had just had an argument with, and what had they done with Morgana? It seemed that every day, Arthur had been growing increasingly distant from his cousin, and he had no idea why. The only new thing in his life was Gwen…but her appearance shouldn't have altered his relationship with Morgana; so what was it? Arthur's head began to ache, as and in the end, he chalked up Morgana's strange behavior to her friendship with Vivian.

* * *

><p>Morgana sat in her political science class, unable to focus on the lecture that was being given. Her mind had drifted to her cousin and Guinevere, and for the past thirty minutes, she had been contemplating what she was going to do. Yes, she was still furious that Arthur would be so bold as to call her a hypocritical racist, but that was a petty detail in the entire scheme of things. What really mattered was what happened last night; <em>that<em> changed everything.

Morgana had known Arthur all her life. She hated to admit it, but Arthur Lewis Pendragon was often selfish and arrogant, using other people for his own gratification. Granted, he was loyal to the few friends he had, and his family, but his respect generally ended there. Yet, over these past several months, Morgana had been watching (with great joy) the sublime transformation of her cousin to a more thoughtful and dignified human being.

However, this joy quickly turned into worry and eventually anxiety as she discovered the source of this transformation. Morgana had first learnt of Arthur and Gwen's relationship after his fight with Roger and his purchase of a replacement book for Gwen. She watched what she believed had started as curiosity turn into infatuation, followed by a deep affection which she had never seen Arthur display for anyone else; and it greatly disturbed and perplexed the young Morgana Pendragon.

She knew Arthur could become passionate and tenacious when it came to women…but with Gwen? What on earth had he been thinking, that is, if he was thinking at all. Sure, Gwen was a pleasant and beautiful girl, whose wit nearly surpassed her humility. Yet, as heartless as it sounded, Guinevere Gibson was not and never would be "Pendragon material".

Morgana enjoyed Gwen's company, and found the poor girl to be an extremely respectable and moral person, so she had no qualms in befriending the her. Yet, in no way could she condone a relationship between her cousin, and the colored maid who cleaned his toilet! Simply put, Morgana just couldn't let the relationship advance anymore than it already had.

Besides, their separation _would _benefit both of them in the long run. Gwen was too naive to realize that she was the only type of girl which Arthur _hadn't _conquered, and his "affections" were probably a mask of his hidden lust. At least Morgana hoped that was the case, because if so, it would be much easier to pull them apart.

_I aint a racist, am I? I just know what's good for them and the family._ Morgana thought as she propped an elbow on her desk, lost in thought. _Surely, I'm only being a realist. Arthur's affections are dangerous in every conceivable notion of the word. _Morgana swallowed a snort as she remembered last night's extremely disturbing and revealing events. _Arthur didn't think twice before up and leaving, to go be with his—his…Gwen. I fear, he's in way too deep already. The fool. The two of them, a couple of careless fools. _She thought bitterly. Her sour thoughts took a tangent, as her mind drifted to an event which she had witnessed only a couple of nights ago.

_Arthur ran behind the back wall of the stables, looking over his shoulder with a sigh. "Guinevere, it's safe, I promise!" Arthur coaxed the timid Gwen in between deep chuckles. She stood on the opposite end of the stable, looking back and forth between the illuminated house on her side, and the dark and mysterious woods on Arthur's._

"_Don't make fun of me Arthur!" Gwen whispered harshly, pulling her sweater tighter over her shoulders. _

_Arthur shook his head as he walked to where Gwen cowered in her refusal to budge. He stood in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them affectionately. _

"_Guinevere, we're not going to get caught haven't we been through this?" Arthur tenderly reminded her. _

"_What if someone comes looking for us?"_

"_In the woods, Gwen?" Arthur laughed at her ludicrous question. Arthur decided that he'd remind Gwen of his ingenious timing for the third time that night. "Remember, Alice went home early today, and everyone's convinced that Merlin took you home. No one knows you're here but us and Merlin (who won't tell a soul). And if it makes you feel any better, Morgana is at Vivian's house…doing girl stuff, and Father's gone for the night." Arthur paused, as he could tell Gwen wasn't buying it. He looked down at the flashlight she carried. "We can go back, if you want."He said, not bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice._

"_No, no!" Gwen urged whole heartedly. "You're right Arthur, there's nothing to worry about. I'm bein' like a little kid. I want to see this special place, really I do," Gwen emphasized, not wanting to hurt his feelings._

_Arthur smiled from ear to ear, as he intertwined his fingers with Gwen's. "Well, let's go then." He led her carefully past the quiet stables, to the path which would take them to their destination. _

_Arthur turned on his own flashlight, looking at Gwen with a smile as he felt his heart beat with vast anticipation. The only other people to see his special place were Merlin and Morgana, and he wondered if Gwen would find it as lovely and magically as he did. The thought of sitting under the stars with Gwen in his arms, far away from the confines of his home, talking about anything and everything made his heart beat even faster. _

_After a five minute walk filled mainly with silence, Arthur stopped abruptly on the little path, causing Gwen to run into his chest. _

"_We'll have to come back in the day time eventually, so you can take in the beauty of this place," Arthur started nervously._

_Gwen could hear the faint sounds of water running over rocks and the chirp of crickets which surround them as she nodded in agreement._

_Arthur held onto Gwen by her forearm, as he gently pulled her to the left, past the large oak tree which had served as his marker since he was a little boy, pretending that the forest was his kingdom. _

_Their feet snapped the twigs on the ground, and Arthur was careful to push any briars out of Guinevere's way, letting her go in front of him. Gwen slowed as she felt the thick grass underneath her feet, and saw red cardinal flowers all about the landscape. Arthur smiled as he heard Gwen gasp with surprise and joy, glancing at him quickly. _

"_Oh Arthur, you shouldn't have!" Gwen exclaimed joyously, as she turned to Arthur. She looked once again at the large red blanket laid out on the riverbank, flanked by two lit lanterns, and a large picnic basket to the side._

_Arthur shook his head, he too smiling. "I figured that you deserved a break, really, it's the least I could do for you."_

_Gwen let her hands fall to her side, as she paused to carefully take in her surroundings. Over the water was a medium sized dock, with a two-passenger row-boat tied to the side. Parallel to that was a large tire swing, which was used to jump out into the water which was covered with lilies. If there was much more, Gwen wasn't able to tell because of the lack of light._

_Gwen laughed as she covered her mouth, as she followed Arthur to the blanket. "Arthur Pendragon, you do have one romantic flare."_

"_Only for you," he responded sitting with Gwen on the blanket. He opened the picnic basket Merlin had prepared for him, as he reminded himself to thank his friend._

_Gwen took the glass of white wine Arthur had poured for her, as she looked up at the mesmerizing night sky. "This place, seems like something that should be in a painting."_

"_I found it one day with Merlin when we were eight, venturing farther away from the house then we were supposed to. My father eventually found out where Merlin, Morgana, and I had been running off to."_

"_Was he angry?" Gwen asked as he sipped on her wine._

"_No, not at all. He's the one that had the dock built, and that tire swing, on yonder," he replied pointing. "That was probably the nicest thing he's done for me…" Arthur's voice trailed off._

"_You're father, I hardly see him at the house, it seems. Except at dinner time and parties."_

_Arthur laid on his side as he took a deep breath. He realized that he never really spoke to Gwen about Uther. "He used to spend the day at his downtown main office, but know he works as much as he can from home. I think he wants to spend more time with me and Morgana before we move out and move on." Arthur watched Gwen lay on her side, cradling her head as she faced him. _

"_Have you two…always been at odds?"_

_Arthur snickered. "Guinevere, you have no idea. We used to fight every day. I'd go do something stupid, then he'd summon me to his office for a lecture, which would end in yelling and cursing, followed by me leaving the house, then doing something else that was stupid. The little you've seen is nothing compared to how things used to be."_

"_Well, why the change?"_

"_Why the…change?" Arthur repeated the question quietly. "I've never really thought about it, you know. I think it's just maturity? Maybe I realized that he's not so much an enemy, it's just we have different views, and he only wants me to be happy in the long run. And at the end of the day, he is my father, and he deserves a certain amount of respect; even when he's wrong."_

"_Well at least you've figured that out now, before it's too late."_

_Arthur looked at Gwen, the dim lighting making her brown eyes appear softer. "You're right. Things are improving though." Arthur began to chuckle to himself, earning a puzzled look from Gwen._

"_What's so funny, Arthur?" She asked amused._

"_You may not find this as hilarious as I do, but the image of my father's face, if he found out where I was now…" Arthur shook his head as his hand went over his face quickly._

_Gwen smiled at Arthur's reaction. "What do you think he would do?"_

"_He's not going to find out, so we don't have to worry about it." Arthur said seriously._

"_Let's just be…hypothetical. If your father found out somehow, what do you think he'd do?"_

_Arthur sighed, as he wondered whether or not he should be candid. "Do you want the truth?"_

_Gwen nodded._

"_Well…he'd lose it."_

_Gwen laughed. "Is that it, Arthur?"_

"_You know, it's kind of hard to speculate, 'cause I've never done something so…taboo before. Does that make sense?"_

"_Yeah, I think it does."_

"_Now, don't get me wrong. I'm no saint, I've seen my father fly off the handle plenty of times because of dumb things I've done. But this is different. Because, I think he'd see that this isn't just some crazy thing I did with my good-for-nothing friends, or something I did just for kicks or attention. He'd see that this is something I chose, and I wouldn't be willing to give it up just because he's pissed. So, he'd lose it; big time." Arthur looked at Gwen who remained silent. He took her free hand, stroking it with his thumb. "I'm not scaring you, am I?"_

"_No, not at all. I like to hear what you think."_

"_What about your father?"_

"_Well, I'm no saint either, but in my daddy's eyes I am. So if he found out that I was sneaking around with any guy…much less a white guy, not only would he be angry, but he'd be crushed. Sometimes, I think he still sees me as his vulnerable little girl who needs protecting; not a young woman who can think on her own."_

_Arthur nodded in understanding as his fingers twirled a loose curl in her hair. "It's just, I wish that I didn't have to hide you like you were a bad thing. You know?"_

"_One day we won't have to," Gwen assured Arthur softly. "But until then, I'm content with secret meetings in the woods," she joked._

"_I'll count the days until we can be together publically."Arthur pushed some hair out of her face as he stroked Gwen's soft cheek. "Have I told you just how beautiful you are lately?"_

_Gwen looked away, as she felt her cheeks take on color. "Arthur, you remind me too much; you'll give me a big head." Gwen teased as she brought her forehead to Arthur's, her hands framing his chiseled jaw. She could hear his breathing becoming more ragged as her touch lingered._

_As if silently asking permission to continue, Arthur waited for Gwen's next move. Her eyes closed moments later, with Arthur raising his chin slightly, brushing his lips gently against hers. Finally, Arthur kissed Gwen as he wrapped his arm around her small waist._

_It was in that moment, when he kissed her for the first time (after more waiting then he thought he was ever capable of); Arthur Pendragon confirmed that from here on out, he only wanted Guinevere Gibson. She had completely stolen his guarded heart, yet he was happy. And on that night, underneath the full moon and innumerable stars, Arthur felt like he held the world in his arms. Then, all of a sudden, it was gone. _

_Arthur opened his eyes to find Gwen sitting straight up, her hand to her chest. "Guinevere, are you okay?" He asked too sitting up._

_Gwen put her index finger to her lips, signaling Arthur to be quiet. "Arthur, don't you hear that? I think, I think someone's here."_

_Arthur stopped, waiting about five seconds, and the only thing he heard were the chirps of crickets. "I don't hear anything. It must've—" Arthur quieted himself as he heard the snapping of twigs in the distance. He stood, swearing that he could hear something moving through the brush towards the clearing. Walking towards the sounds, he called out to the darkness. "Who's there!"_

Morgana was jolted out of her memory as the professor turned on the lights of the room, now finished with the projector which sat at the front of the room. She welcomed the distraction from her distraction, as she realized that she didn't care to relive what she saw for much longer. Shifting in her seat to reach a book she had placed under her seat, she felt a sharp pain run up her right arm. Tenderly, lifting up her sleeve, she audibly sucked in her breath as she saw the numerous thin scratches which were drawn out like a road map on her pale and delicate skin. She ran a finger over her wounds, cursing the briars and branches which lined the woods behind her home.

"Damn branches…"

"What was that?" Vivian asked turning around in her seat in front of Morgana.

Morgana wasn't aware that she had actually vocalized the thought, and was startled to see Vivian looking at her confused. "Nothing Viv…I was just reading," Morgana dismissed quietly, not wanting the professor to call her out for speaking during his lecture.

Vivian turned around without further questions, as Morgana quickly pushed her sleeve down, hoping that no one had seen her the underside of her arms.

* * *

><p>"Yes Marge, go fetch some of them peaches from the cellar, would ya?" Stella asked her assistant cook as she rested a hand on her hip, exhausted.<p>

"Yes'm, I'll be back in a jiffy."

Stella nodded dismissively, as she walked to the oven on the opposite side of the kitchen.

"Sorry, excuse me Mr. Pendragon," Stella heard Marge in the distance.

Stella turned around quickly to see Arthur speed-walking past the kitchen, looking extremely windswept. "Hiya, Arthur!" Stella called out as the young man brushed right past the kitchen without a second glance at her.

"Oh, hi Stella!" Arthur said turning the corner, popping his head in the kitchen.

"How were your classes? You aint causin' any trouble, are you?"

"No ma'am, I'm behaving, and classes were boring. But, I have lots of homework, I gotta go." Arthur said in a hurry, cutting Stella off just as she was about to speak again.

The cook stood alone in the kitchen, shaking her head at the suddenly scatter-brained Arthur. She knew that whatever she had to say was much less important compared to what Gwen had to say, naturally.

"That boy, he's just somethin' else," she laughed to herself.

Arthur went down the hall behind the kitchen, opening every door on the hall, desperately searching for Gwen. He had already checked the second and third floors, but she was nowhere to be found. Had she gone home early?

"_Damn it!"_ He whispered to himself as he closed the door to the final guest room on the first floor.

"Are you lookin' for something sir?"

The deep voice from behind startled Arthur, as he spun around, met by the curious gaze of his father's chauffer, Clarence. Taking deep and calming breath, Arthur wondered if he should tell Clarence the truth. _No…that'd be too suspicious._ Arthur feigned a smile. "No, I'm fine."

Clarence raised an eyebrow, still highly skeptical. "You sure?"

Arthur mutely nodded, before brushing past the chauffer in haste. Walking around two servants who scrubbed the wood floors, Arthur made his way back to the foyer. Standing under the large crystal chandelier he contemplated where else Gwen could be. All day, his focus had been on Gwen and the events of last night. He hadn't been able to really talk to her, and he wondered if she was actually alright, despite telling everyone else that she was.

"Arthur, why are you just standin' there?"

Arthur heard the voice of his cousin coming down the steps behind him, and he closed his eyes in agitation. Still vexed with Morgana, and his anxiety multiplying by the minute; he was not in the mood to speak with her.

"Never mind, Morgana," he growled inaudibly under his breath, walking towards the door.

"Gwen, I think Arthur's gone mute?" Morgana laughed, finally reaching the ground floor.

"I'm not sure, Morgana." Gwen said with a giggle, as she watched Arthur turn on his heels with a quickness. She watched his eyes brighten noticeably in delight.

"Guinevere," Arthur said simply, laughing a little, relieved that he had finally "found" her.

"Arthur…?" She asked, slightly confused.

"I've been looking for you." Arthur stated plainly, not wanting to divulge much more in front of Morgana.

Gwen shifted the towels in her hands uncomfortably, as she looked at Arthur, wondering why he was acting so strange; in front of his cousin no less. "Sorry, I've been…around."

Morgana waved her hands, as she let out a whistle. Arthur turned his attention to her, as she spoke, her speech laden with sarcasm. "Oh, hi Arthur. It's nice to see you too."

Arthur turned back to Gwen, opening his mouth to speak, before closing it again. He looked at Morgana, before deciding to walk in the direction he had came.

Morgana scoffed as she watched Arthur leave, disappearing moments later. "He's been acting so strange lately…" Morgana said more to herself, as she turned to see Gwen staring in the direction Arthur had left. Morgana didn't have to be informed when her presence was unwanted. "Bye Gwen, I'll tell Vivian you said 'hi'."

Gwen simply nodded at Morgana's words which went over her head, as she went to find Arthur. She passed walked towards the kitchen, where she found Arthur at the end of the hall waiting, silently beckoning her with his index finger.

"Ah, howdy Gwen," the Marge and Stella chirped from the kitchen.

"Hey, y'all," she replied in a rushed tone as she followed Arthur out of the hallway. A couple of yards ahead of her, Arthur walked to the study, where he opened the door, closing it once Gwen entered. Silently, she set down the three folded towels she had been holding. Not a moment later, Arthur's arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her close for a kiss.

A groan of relief escaped his covered lips, as he moved his hands up Gwen's back, his desperation, joy, and relief at Gwen's mere presence displayed in his sudden and passionate actions. Yet, moments later, Arthur could feel Gwen's hands pushing against his chest.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" She asked, her eyebrows together as she leaned away from Arthur. She watched him take a deep breath to compose himself.

"I'm sorry Gwen, I didn't mean to get carried away. But, I'm just still can't believe you're even alive!" He exclaimed breathlessly.

Gwen hugged him tightly, and she soon realized that Arthur didn't want to let her go. She nestled into his shoulder, as he rubbed her back. "Everything's okay now Arthur, everything's okay." She repeated.

"No Gwen, it's not." Arthur waited for Gwen to respond, but she had none. "Guinevere, I know you don't want me to worry, or get worked up…but how can I help myself when I remember what happened to you last night. Hell, I went there, and I _saw _it!"

Gwen took a step away from Arthur, pushing a curl behind her ear, as she cleared her throat. "Arthur, you can't understand." She whispered, looking Arthur directly in the eye. Within moments, Gwen saw the hurt which washed over Arthur appear in his eyes. She turned away from him, as she felt tears welling in her own. _No, I don't want to cry, not in front of him._

"Guinevere, make me understand. Can't you see that I want to be there for you? To help you?"

"Arthur, there's nothing you can do to help me. All of your money and your pomp can't do anything about_ this_." Gwen's previously soft and gentle tone had turned bitter in nanoseconds.

On any other occasion, Arthur would have become infuriated at the words, but he was beginning to realize that he truly couldn't empathize with Gwen. He never had to worry about a mob coming into his neighborhood, beating a friend within inches of his life, and then setting his home and a helpless old woman's home on fire. But he wanted to do _something _for her. As Arthur looked away, contemplating his next words, he heard Gwen sniffle, and raise a hand to wipe her eyes.

Arthur sighed sadly, as he moved to stand in front of her, resting his hands on her shoulders, in a desperate attempt to soothe her. "Guinevere, I know I'm limited, and I can't fix everything for you. But I just want to know what happened, you can tell me anything, you know that, right?" Arthur watched Gwen wipe her red eyes as she nodded, moving to the small sofa on the other side of the massive room. Arthur sat next to her, letting her speak when she was ready.

"Well, I guess I'll start from the beginning," Gwen laughed as she wiped her now puffy eyes. "It was past midnight, and I woke up because I was thirsty I guess, I'm not sure. Well, I went and poured a drink of water, and just as I was fixin' to go back to bed, I see this old rickety truck pull in across the street."

"An old truck? Do you remember what it looked like?"

"Yeah, an old-model blue Ford pickup; really rusty. It looked like it oughta be on a farm."

"Then what happened next?"

"I saw five men jump outta the car, one with a bat. The smashed the windows, then kicked the door down. Arthur, I could hear Raymond and Mrs. Neely call out, begging for those men to spare them their lives. And I sat on my living room floor, not doin' a darn thing!"

"Gwen, there's nothing you could've done."

"I know, I know. But…they then lit their house on fire, and another to the left."

"Do you know why? Why they burnt down the other one?"

"No. Maybe they were frantic to get rid of their gasoline bottles, and threw it in nowhere in particular. By that time, the men where comin' outta their houses, and the rednecks up and left."

Arthur let out an exasperated sigh, as he leant back in the couch. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "I wish that you would've gotten a good look at those bastards, they deserve to rot in hell. They'll get their own Guinevere, trust me."

Gwen sat next to Arthur silently, looking down at her small hands. She looked at Arthur, who still had his eyes closed, before uttering her next words. "Arthur," she whispered in a voice so low, Arthur wasn't sure if she had spoken at all.

He sat up, opening his eyes. "Is there more? If it's too hard to go on, you don't have to. I understand completely."

"Oh, Arthur, please forgive me! I'm so sorry!" Gwen exclaimed.

"Forgive you for what, Guinevere?" Arthur asked alarmed at Gwen's sudden change in demeanor.

"Arthur, I lied to you last night."

"Guinevere, what do you mean—"

"I saw who did it!" Gwen rushed out, as if the words had been dancing on the tip of her tongue for some time, and it was a relief to finally express them.

Arthur involuntarily scooted away from Gwen, as his eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Arthur, I know who set those houses on fire. I lied to you; I saw two of those devils as clear as day!" Gwen reached for Arthur's hand, but he jerked it away as he stood.

He rested a hand on his hip, as Gwen's words continued to register, taking their full effect. He watched Gwen stand, more tears streaking her soft cheeks. "Why…why didn't you tell me?" He asked, more hurt than angry.

"Arthur, you don't understand. They'll _kill _my family if I get them in any trouble. I didn't want to tell you, but I felt so rotten 'bout lying to you last night."

"So, you didn't think I'd believe you? Is that it?"

"No! Arthur, didn't you hear me?"

"I heard you, but I think the truth is that you just don't trust me!"

"It's not that, Arthur, you just can't understand, okay! It's just that you're—"

"I'm what?" Arthur asked raising his voice as he saw Gwen tremble. "Because I'm white? Is that it Gwen?"

"Arthur, don't try and reduce this to race." Gwen asked stepping towards him.

"Well, it's not the first time you made that point Guinevere, what else am I supposed to think? Am I incapable of empathizing with you because we're not the same skin color?" Arthur knew that wasn't what Gwen had meant at all, but he wasn't thinking clearly.

Gwen turned away from Arthur frustrated; of all people, she thought he would be able to understand her the most. "Stop being so selfish," she said shakily.

"Selfish? At least I'm not a liar! I thought I could trust you, Guinevere!"

"Arthur, this isn't about you! Can you just accept that for _once_ things aren't about you! This is my _family_ we're talking about! I don't have your connections, or the kind of money which keeps people quiet. I trust you, sometimes I feel like you're the only person I can trust. But that doesn't change the fact that you won't be the one who'd have to sleep with one eye open if word names began to drop."

Arthur took a deep breath, beginning to see Gwen's point, and the terror she must've felt. But still, there was more he wanted to know. "Well, if you trust me so much, tell me who did it then."

"I can't Arthur," Gwen whispered.

"I promise I won't tell another soul, but you can't expect me to forget about this. Please, just put my mind to rest, now that you've opened Pandora's box."

Gwen shook her head almost violently. "Arthur, I know you. You care for me too much, and you'll kill 'em. You'll find 'em and strangle the life out of them, I swear you will."

Arthur blinked as he shook his head too." I won't do anything to put your family in danger. But, all day, I've been looking in the faces of people I've passed, wondering if they could be the ones who did this terrible thing to you and your neighbors. You're right, this isn't about me, but offer me that closure, at least Guinevere. And we'll never have to speak of this again."

Gwen pointed at Arthur as he took a step towards her, the two standing inches apart. "If I tell you Arthur Pendragon, you have to _swear_ that you won't confront them about this. If you do, I vow, with Almighty God as my witness, that I'll never speak to you _ever_ again."

Arthur actually had to take a moment to contemplate. If it was someone he was forced to interact with everyday, could he truly promise Gwen that he wouldn't do something violent and rash? But for Gwen, he knew that he could control himself. For her, he would make and keep this pledge. "I promise not to confront them. I swear it."

Gwen took several long moments to look into Arthur's eyes to confirm his sincerity. When he neither budged nor blinked, she conceded. "Remember your promise…"

"Okay, please Guinevere, just tell me!" Arthur begged.

Gwen looked down at her feet, taking deep breath. "It was…Alex and Roger; they were there."

Gwen looked up at Arthur after her confession, watching his mouth form into a straight line, and his jaw set in a position which looked extremely painful.

"Alex, and Roger? The two who used to be my friends?"

Gwen nodded silently.

Arthur's hands which rested at his side actually began to curl into angry fists, as he looked out of the window shaking his head. Gwen wondered if maybe he was counting down from ten, or thinking of a happy place to calm himself down. But the fact that he was totally silent scared her; she would prefer yelling and cursing. At least then, she would know he felt.

"Arthur, say something," Gwen pleaded, in a quiet whisper. Arthur remained silent, his jaw shifting from side to side because he was gritting his teeth together so hard.

"I can't fucking believe this," he said to himself, taking two large steps away from Gwen. "I can't fucking believe this," he repeated slowly, as he placed his hands on the large mahogany desk, his back to Gwen.

Gwen watched Arthur's chest heave from a distance, afraid to move closer to him. She brought a hand to her mouth, as she waited for a further reaction which she knew was coming.

"Those fucking bastards!" Arthur finally yelled, picking up the rather expensive ash tray on the desk, and throwing it against a nearby book case where it shattered to an innumerable amount of glass shards.

Gwen jumped back with a yelp, startled as she heard the glass break, and fall to the floor. She quickly began to regret ever telling Arthur that it was Alex and Roger who were there last night. She watched his back, as he spoke.

"I treated them like kin," Arthur spun to look at Gwen, pounding his index finger to his chest. "I treated those guys like my own kin, and this is what happens!"

"Arthur, they didn't know. Pleas, just calm down!"

"Calm down! How the hell am I supposed to_ calm_ down, Guinevere?" Arthur moved away from the desk, as he began to pace frantically, talking to himself, taking shallow breaths. "Holy Mary, I think I might strangle those two dogs."

"Arthur, no!" Gwen pleaded, stepping towards him. She moved in front of him, stopping his frantic and agitated movements. She put her hands to his shoulder, forcing him to stand still and look her in the eye. "Arthur, I knew this would happen! Please, you don't have to do anything on my behalf, please just leave it alone; leave_ them_ alone!" She begged, picking up his hands, which radiated an unnatural heat, and quivered under her grasp. She looked into Arthur's eyes, wondering what she had to say to make him think straight.

"Guinevere, I heard what you said earlier, and I don't want anything to happen to you, or your family, trust me in that."

"Okay, well then you'll forget this Arthur! You'll promise me that you'll move on?"

"They deserve to pay for what they've done, Gwen. What if—what if they never know it was you who told me?"

Gwen blinked, unable to comprehend Arthur's point. She rubbed her forehead, she too becoming angry. "Listen to yourself Arthur! You sound insane! You promised me that you wouldn't tell a soul!"

"I know, I know. It's just, I don't want them to get away. They'll do it again, I know those sick bastards will. Alex is— was Mary Tate's boyfriend, this was revenge. But, he'd do it to someone else. Oh God, Guinevere."

Gwen hugged Arthur, relieved that he was finally seeing reason. "Arthur, don't let this burden you. I couldn't forgive myself if you got in trouble on my behalf."

Arthur held onto Gwen securely, his lips brushing against her neck as he spoke. "Don't be afraid Guinevere, I'll do everything I can to protect you. It just sickens me to think that you know who did it, but there's not a damn thing we can do. I'm furious, but I'll do as you wish, even thought it hurts. After all, that's what you do when you love someone."

Gwen looked up at Arthur, who gently wiped a single tear which fell.

"Don't cry Guinevere, everything will be okay, I promise. I'll always be here for you."

_Title Inspired by: "Not a Single Word about This" by Alesana_


	14. Chapter 14

_Hello everyone! This chapter's up so quickly because I'm leaving for a trip tomorrow, and I really wanted to publish 14 before I left, so I've been working "over time". Okay, some big steps in this chapter, a lot of plot/character development. _

_I read all of the comments from last week's chapter, and I saw that some of you are skeptical of Arthur's loyalty to Gwen…I found that very interesting for several reasons. Anyway, you find out a little bit more about his past, but you may not be too surprised; more is to come, but that's a little ways ahead. I'm curious to see what you all think of Vivian (one reader dubbed her the "Wicked Witch of the South"; I love that!) after this chapter._

_Don't forget to add me to your Story Alert, so you won't have to wait to find out what happens when two characters let their guard down in Chapter 15…_

_YoureAnIllusion_

**Chapter 14: The Disasterist**

"Vivian? What's takin' you so long in there?" Morgana called impatiently from Vivian's room. She listened to the water from the bathroom sink shut off, followed by Vivian's footsteps against the tile.

"Sorry Morgana!" Vivian walked out soon after, finding Morgana sitting in front of the mirror, brushing her hair. "Sorry I interrupted; what were you sayin' before I left?"

"About what I overheard last night."

"Oh yes, go on then."

"Well I overheard Uncle speakin' in his office with a friend who came over for supper. Apparently, Councilman Tate has sent Mary off to the country…"

Vivian's eyes widened as Morgana let the end of her sentence linger. A hand flew to Vivian's agape mouth in shock. "Shut your mouth, Morgana!" Vivian exclaimed quietly. "_The _country?" She hardly whispered in disbelief.

Morgana nodded, almost smiling. "Yes, the country, to stay with an aunt! I do declare Vivian; I nearly had a stroke on the spot!"

"My stars," Vivian mumbled to herself as she sat on the edge of her bed, fumbling with her small hands. She looked up at the anxious Morgana after a few moments of silence, finally voicing the obvious. "So it's true then, aint it? That colored fella done knocked up Mary Tate?"

Morgana cut her eyes away from Vivian, as she continued to brush her long raven hair. "I'm only speculatin', now. But, honestly: why else would she be sent away to her auntie, much less in the _country_?" Morgana said the last word with obvious disgust. "And with Raymond just gettin' out of the hospital, I'm sure the Councilman's just covering all bases."

"Golly, I never thought the Councilman was so…spineless. And poor Mary." Vivian's tone was laced with disappointment.

Morgana nearly snorted at Vivian's forlorn look. "Vivian, what else could he have done, huh? He had to cut his losses somehow. This whole affair has been a terrible scandal on the Tates, the Councilman is only doin' what's best for his family."

"I'll grant you that, Morgana." Vivian nodded her head slightly, before tapping her chin. "But don't you reckon that things are gettin' a little out of hand?"

Morgana didn't respond, instead she waited for further elaboration.

"I mean, we all know that the Councilman sent those hoodlums to burn down Raymond's house."

Morgana turned to Vivian, crossing her legs, shaking her head vehemently. "I know it seems that way Viv, but I really don't think so. There are more discreet and _effective_ ways the Councilman could've gotten rid of Raymond Neely. Whoever set those homes on fire; they were terribly sloppy, I'm sure the Councilman would've done a much better job." Morgana paused. "That didn't come out right."

"Okay, okay," Vivian waved her hands. "For the sake of the argument, let's say Councilman Tate didn't arrange the beating and the fires. But still, he's been completely silent about what happened that night. He hasn't made a single public comment about the whole arson deal; aint that a bit suspicious?"

Morgana shrugged. "With the media pokin' 'round in his life, isn't the man allowed some privacy?"

"Okay, well what about the rape investigation, what's happenin' with that anyhow?"

Morgana blinked, the question catching her off guard. "I'm not too sure Vivian. Ray just got out of the hospital two days ago. I reckon he and his family are gonna skip town and start over, before the Councilman can really get his hands on him."

Vivian looked at the ground in a daze. "That's just a shame, aint it?"

Morgana raised her eyebrows. "A shame?"

"Yeah, I mean, when all this first started, I thought that Mary had been raped. But now…now I think they actually had a—" Vivian grappled with the single word. "A relationship. I aint never heard her curse once 'bout that boy. Her daddy is the only one who's been hollerin' 'bout rape this whole time. Aint _that _a little suspicious?"

"Mary's just scared, that doesn't mean anything."

"Oh, c'mon Morgana!" Vivian exclaimed frustrated, slapping her thighs. "We both know Mary better than that, I think she was—is in love with that boy, as taboo as it is. You know, I aint no angel, but you gotta feel some pity towards them two." Vivian watched Morgana the entire time, her emotions akin to a rock. "If you think about it, they weren't harmin' nobody. But the next thing you know, the poor boy is beaten inches within his life, and Mary's an outcast from the society which puts her family on an incredible pedestal; kinda like yours." Vivian said pointing at Morgana.

"And yours too." Morgana snorted for the second time, as she turned away from Vivian and back to the mirror. "I must say Vivian; I am surprised, that you'd be takin' up for a man who defiles white women." Morgana immediately closed her mouth, as she realized just how terrible her words sounded.

"Morgana, what are you sayin'!" Vivian asked, thoroughly appalled; these words sounded so alien coming from Morgana.

Morgana slammed Vivian's brush against her table, turning to her dramatic friend. "All I'm sayin' Vivian is that…is that; they had it comin'. I know I sound cold and old-fashioned; forgive me. But I won't apologize 'cause I have trouble sympathizing with a rapist and his victim."

"But—"

"And if it was by her consent," Morgana began, her voice rising in volume and intensity, "then I say shame upon Mary. Shame upon her for bein' so damn selfish, and doing the unthinkable only to ruin her family's good name. This type of scandal happens when colored-folk get in bed with whites."

"Morgana…"

"And I aint a racist." Morgana felt like she had been saying that too much lately. "I believe coloreds are just good as us, and should be treated fairly; I do. I know some good hardworkin' coloreds, and they have my respect. But what I can never respect is this, this….outrage. Mary Tate had absolutely _no_ business with the likes of Raymond Neely. She should've stuck with her own, and all of this never would've happened."

Vivian scratched her head, as she wondered where all of Morgana's abrupt passion was coming from. Morgana was one of the few people she knew who was willing to look past someone's race, and straight to their character. So Vivian naturally assumed that Morgana would have been as open as she was to the Mary Tate and Raymond Neely scandal.

"I don't wanna argue Morgana."

"Okay, good." Morgana took a deep breath as she stood, rolling her shoulders. "I'm sorry Viv, I've just been wound so tight lately."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Morgana nodded shyly. "It's something that's been weighing on my mind and heart for quite some time…" Morgana began quietly.

Vivian looked concerned right away. "What is it, Morgana?"

"Actually," Morgana feigned a timid smile. "I'm sorry, I never should've mentioned it. I wouldn't want to burden you."

"No, no. Now you gotta spit it out." Vivian encouraged her friend.

"Are you sure?" Morgana asked sitting next to Vivian on the edge of the bed.

"That's what friends are for, right? Take a load off."

"Okay…if you insist." Morgana counted to five in her head to heighten the dramatic effect, standing again once she had done so. Walking to Vivian's large window, she rested her hand on the pane for support. "Viv, I fear that something is…off with Arthur." Morgana withheld her smirk, as she watched Vivian's facial expressions take on the character of a sad puppy in mere seconds.

"Is he alright?"

"Oh, it's nothing big, I'm sure…."

"Well obviously you're troubled; so quit bein' so darn cryptic!" Vivian demanded impatiently.

_Oh, this is just too easy. _"I think Arthur may be seeing someone." Morgana turned to Vivian, watching the blonde's shoulders slump noticeably.

Vivian took a moment of silence, to make sure that her voice wouldn't tremble. "A girl?"

"Of course…unless Arthur's hiding more than I expected."

"Don't joke 'bout that!" Vivian exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just that, he hasn't been himself lately." Morgana took note of Vivian's eager eyes, and she decided to put the poor girl out of her anxious misery. "He's been sneaking off at night, I wake up sometimes to check on him, and sure enough; he's gone."

"Arthur's always been…spirited and _adventurous_. How is this any different?"

_Go on, deny it; good_. "That's what I thought too, in the beginning at least. But, now it's happening all the time. And it's not just that."

"There's more?" Vivian asked shrilly.

Morgana nodded. "Vivian, I find him lying about his whereabouts, coming home smelling of perfume, and obviously in a rut… if you catch my drift." Morgana stretched the truth, and to great avail. She watched Vivian's eyes narrow with each venomous word as it rolled off of her tongue; just as she had rehearsed.

"Who is this tramp?" Vivian asked, her eyes hardly slits.

_Bingo._ Morgana genuinely laughed. "Tramp? Well I don't know if she's_ that_ bad."

"Well, she must be a whore, if Arthur's sneaking around with her."

Morgana swallowed an indignant cackle as she watched Vivian stood up in agitation, running a hand through her long blonde locks. _You and Arthur used to do the same thing. Don't pretend like you were much better._

"Why are you tellin' me this anyway, Morgana?" Vivian turned her fiery gaze to Morgana.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Morgana explained, still resting on the window pane. "I'm just curious, to find this mystery woman. I thought…maybe you would have an idea of who it was?"

Vivian paused in her frantic movements, as she thought out loud. "I've seen him talkin' with Mildred Alaine after class. Or, the other day, I saw him flirting with Kate in the courtyard." Vivian stopped, looking at Morgana wide-eyed. "Oh Lord, it's Kate Dodson, aint it? That girl's been eyein' Arthur somethin' fierce lately!" Vivian paused again, as Morgana listened with baited breath. "Arthur and Kate did have a fling last year…"

Morgana waved her hand dismissively. _Yeah, and he's had a "fling" with just about every other girl in the town too._ "No, I don't think it's little ol' Kate Dodson; their little fling is hardly worth mentioning. I think that Arthur's keeping this girl tucked away."

"Tucked away where?"

"Vivian, if I knew, do you think I'd be asking you?"

Vivian looked away embarrassed, realizing how dim her question was.

"Anyway, I was just wonderin' if you could, maybe keep an eye on him? I know how you feel about Arthur, and this might be a terrible thing to ask of you—"

"I'll do it." Vivian interrupted quickly.

_Low hanging fruit_. Morgana thought as she suppressed the smile which came from a feeling of sheer success. She watched Vivian grit her teeth, as if her next words were physically troublesome for her to release.

"I'll keep my eyes and ears open." Vivian affirmed again.

"You know, I could just be paranoid, there might not be any girl at all…" _Deny it, deny it, deny—_

"No there's a girl." She twisted a thick lock of golden hair around her index finger. "You know what Morgana? I've been wonderin' for a spell or two why Arthur's been actin' so strange. One day, we're goin' out for dinner and cuddling at the drive-in theatre. But the next, he's burnin' rubber and leaving skid marks to get away from me!" Vivian gasped, as she mentally went over every encounter she had had with Arthur over the past several months. "By golly…this has been goin' on for some time, hasn't it?"

_Too long._ "I'm not sure. That's why I'm asking for your help."

"You've got it; this girl has to be bad news."

"Thanks Viv," Morgana put on her best smile of relief. "I know that I can always trust you."

"Of course; I'm here for you Morgana."

Morgana watched Vivian turn away sadly; no doubt she would be down for the rest of the evening. But it was a small price to pay. With Vivian on the case, it would only be a matter of time before the nosy girl found out about Guinevere Gibson, and destroyed whatever relationship existed between the maid and Arthur. Morgana wasn't too picky on how the goal would be achieved.

She slept easily that night, sure that with time, Vivian would succeed, and all would be right again. This way, Morgana didn't even have to get her hands dirty.

* * *

><p>"Gwen, whatchya doin'?" Elliot hollered from his bedroom.<p>

Gwen looked up from the book which lay in her lap, sighing for she had just curled up onto the couch. "I'm in the living room, reading." She waited until her brother appeared moments later out of breath, holding his navy-blue work jumpsuit.

"Could you do me a blessin'?" He asked his charming, smile which Gwen knew all too well.

She yanked Elliot's work uniform, assuming that he wanted her to mend it. What else was new? "What's wrong with it now?"

"My name tag is startin' to come off, see?"

"Elliot, can't it wait 'til the weekend? I'll fix it for you on Saturday."

Elliot shook his head. "Pop and I are goin' to a training course on Saturday, and we won't be back until Monday; I need it done before then."

Gwen turned to her father, who sat in the corner of the room, his eyes glued on a newspaper. "Daddy, when were you gonna tell me this?"

"Sorry baby, it kept slipping my mind. And I know Saturday is your birthday, and I didn't want you to be too upset."

"No, it's fine."

"We'll celebrate when your brother and I get back. Oh, and don't worry: I made arrangements for you."

"Arrangements?"

"Of course: to stay at Miss Alice's house for the two days that we're gone."

Gwen groaned loudly, putting Elliot's jumpsuit next to her on the couch. "Daddy, you do realize that there are _six_ people crammed into that itty bitty house, right?"

"It's only two days," Tom shrugged.

Gwen shook her head. "I'm turnin' twenty in two days, Daddy. Don't you think that I'll be able to survive for two days on my own?"

Tom looked away, not wanting to validate any of Gwen's points. "I know baby, it's just that this neighborhood isn't safe like it used to be. With the Neely's—"

"Daddy, I'm not stayin' with Miss Alice." Gwen blurted, she didn't care what arguments her father had planned. There was no way she was going to be forced to stay in that house which was filled to the brim with people, when she could have her own home to herself.

Tom tilted his head, unsure if he had heard his daughter interrupt him or not. "Excuse me?"

"I don't mean to be rude, Daddy, but you're gonna have to face it sooner or later: I'm an adult."

Tom looked away sadly. "I know…"

"Most women my age are married, some starting their own families by now. And here I am, with my father fixin' to make me stay with neighbors for _two_ nights. When am I gonna be allowed to fend for myself?"

Tom's cheeks began to flush. "But Gwen—"

"I practically run the house myself as it is! Since Mama passed, I've been doin' all the cooking, cleaning, sewing, and when I came of age; shopping."

"She's got a point, Pop," Elliot chimed in. He was met with his father's annoyed gaze, as he deliberated in his corner of the room.

Tom lifted up his hands in surrender. "You're right, Gwen; you're a woman now. It's just, you're still my baby-girl, and I feel like I still have to protect you, sometimes." Tom admitted.

Gwen smiled sweetly. "You're still my Daddy, no matter how old I am."

Silence hung over the room as Tom looked at his daughter, his eyes filled with pride. Elliot swiveled his head back and forth to look at his father and sister.

"Shucks! Y'all are fixin' to make me all emotional too!" Elliot cut in.

Gwen transferred her gaze to her brother as she rolled her eyes; leave it to Elliot to shatter a tender moment. "So, tell me, where are y'all goin' exactly?"

"There's this two day workshop that all the mechanics at the garage have to go to. All these fancy new engines are bein' rolled out, and don't nobody know how to fix 'em. It's only an hour away in Andover, so we'll be only an hour away if anything happens."

"I'm sure everything will be fine, Daddy."

"Now, I'm trustin' you here Gwen. I don't want you inviting all of your girlfriends over for a party, or whatever it is y'all women do."

Gwen giggled as she picked up Elliot's uniform. "I promise I won't be goin' buck-wild after two nights, Daddy."

* * *

><p>Merlin followed Arthur out of the university's main building the next day, rummaging through his pockets to find his keys. "Are we still up for lunch Arthur? I'm starving."<p>

Arthur snapped his fingers as he stopped, turning to his friend. "Sorry Merlin, I have to go pick up Gwen's birthday present."

Merlin smiled brightly. "I didn't know it was her birthday."

"Yup, she's turning twenty. And I want to make sure I get there before the store closes."

"Are you getting her another book?"

Arthur suppressed an indignant snort. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin I can't just get her a book!"

Merlin held up his hands defensively.

"No, there's this necklace I had made for her—"

"Made?"

Arthur nodded his head.

"You had a necklace_ made_ for her?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Do I have to say it backwards too?"

"Wow, that's…very romantic of you, Arthur." Merlin teased. "But jewelry? I didn't know Gwen even wore jewelry."

"It's 'cause she can't afford it, Merlin. But I was thinking of what I could get her, and I wanted it to be special. I thought of a necklace that my father gave to my mom, which he still keeps in his office. So I went to the jewelers and had them make it for me. I paid them extra to put all other projects aside and get it done first." Arthur looked at his friend who wore a dopey grin.

"So things are getting serious then, huh?"

Arthur shook his head. "They've_ been _serious; I only have eyes for her."

"You do realize what you just said, right?"

Arthur rose an eyebrow, unsure which part was unclear.

"You, Arthur Lewis Pendragon, just said that you only want one girl…at a time."

Arthur couldn't help but laugh. "I meant ever."

"E-ever?" Merlin nearly choked on the polysyllabic word.

Arthur shrugged, as he resumed walking. Merlin acted like everything was such a big deal. Anyway, Arthur didn't really consider this to be breaking news.

Merlin smiled widely, patting Arthur on the back. "I'm happy for you Arthur."

"Yeah, I'm happy too." Arthur admitted. "One day, we all should—" Arthur was cut off as he felt his shoulder being violently nudged to the side by a fellow student, who kept on walking. Arthur stopped, his eyes crashing with Roger's angry green gaze.

"Watch where you're walkin'," Roger gruffly warned, as he stopped to look at Arthur.

Arthur stood his ground next to Merlin, looking the red-head directly in his green eyes, as he felt his suppressed anger rise up at the sight of him. There he was, standing smug, and scot-free, unaware that Arthur knew his secret. Every time he saw either Roger or Alex, he had visions of terrible violence which usually included a Louisville Slugger. It took all of Arthur's will power every single day to pass Roger and Alex, without tackling them, and bashing their heads into the pavement.

But every time he felt his hands ball into fists, or his cheeks flush with anger, Arthur reminded himself of Gwen. He remembered that if succumbed to his furious temptations, then the only person he would really be hurting was Gwen; and even killing Alex and Roger wasn't worth that. He had made a solemn promise that he wouldn't do anything reckless to them, and jeopardize her family. It was because of this, that Arthur was able divert his challenging gaze from Roger, who smirked then walked off.

"What's been his problem lately?" Merlin asked.

Arthur shook his head silently, as he vigorously fished in his pockets. One his fingers felt the cigarette carton; he could already feel a sense of relief.

"Is that a cigarette?" Merlin asked as Arthur took out his first cigarette for nearly a month.

"What else does it look like, Merlin?" Arthur asked sarcastically as he lit his old friend.

"I thought you'd quit?" Merlin asked in between coughs.

"Not officially…I just eased up."

"I haven't seen you with a cigarette for more than a month; I call that quitting."

"I stopped because Guinevere hates cigarettes, and I don't want her to taste them on me," Arthur said with a rueful grin, as he watched Merlin visibly cringe.

"You could've left that part out," Merlin informed his friend with a slightly curled lip. "So, why isn't that stopping you now?"

"I'm stressed; I think Guinevere would understand this time." Arthur let his mysterious words dwindle, aware that he couldn't elaborate on the _source_ of his stress. Arthur inhaled a generous portion, exhaling it quickly. "Much better," he said as he closed his eyes.

Merlin watched Arthur enjoy his cigarette a little too much, and decided it was time for him to depart anyway. "I'll catch you later Arthur, good luck at the jewelry store!"

Arthur waved silently, as he watched Merlin jog in the opposite direction.

* * *

><p>Arthur parked his car on the sidewalk in front of the town's most prestigious (and expensive) jewelry store, owned by a family friend. He stepped out of his car, looking over his shoulder the entire way until he was inside of the small store.<p>

"Mr. Pendragon, very nice to see you again sir," the owner called out from behind the main display table the moment he entered.

"Mrs. Blanch, how are you this afternoon?" Arthur asked the older woman who came to give him a hardy handshake.

"I'm just dandy sir. Did you come for that beautiful sapphire necklace you requested?"

"Yes ma'am, is it ready?"

Mrs. Blanch moved behind her desk, waving her hand dismissively. "Of course, and for you, I had it rushed."

"You're too kind." _Being a Pendragon does come in handy._

"I'm still surprised that such a young man has such exquisite taste." She began putting on her glasses. "I'll tell you, after you showed me that design, I went ahead and ordered another one just like it, because I know the other customers will adore it," the woman rambled as she opened her order log. She put her finger down on the middle of the page. "Ah, yes; aheart-shaped pendant with alternating white diamonds and blue sapphires. I made sure that only _the_ highest quality of blue sapphires were used on the piece, they're from Sri Lanka. Very, very stunning gems, aren't they?" The woman finally paused, affording Arthur the chance to nod. "Yes, a very spectacular piece, this is." The jeweler marveled at the thought of the exquisite creation.

"Thank you ma'am. My mother had a necklace which was very similar, that's where I got the idea from."

"The sapphire symbolizes steadfastness and loyalty, for a special lady I assume?"

Arthur blinked. "Oh, I didn't know that. But, yes'm, she's a very special lady. Her twentieth birthday is tomorrow, and I only chose the sapphire because it's her birth stone."

Mrs. Blanch took off her spectacles, smiling knowingly at the young man. "Bless your heart, that is the sweetest thing I've heard in a long while. Why don't you go wait by that counter, while I get the necklace from the back?"

"Okay, thank you."

"Feel free to look at anything else!" The woman added over her shoulder.

Arthur nodded in response as he walked to the counter, taking his wallet out of his pocket. He looked at the people in the store, who spoke with the other employees. A few minutes later, Mrs. Blanch came out humming, presenting Arthur with a large rectangular black velvet box.

"Take a gander at it sir, and make sure it's to your likin'," Mrs. Blanch encouraged with a great smile on her face.

Arthur nodded as he took the case, flipping it open. He was silent for a few moments which worried the talkative woman.

"Is there somethin' wrong with it sir? I'll be more than happy to fix—"

"No, no, it's just perfect," Arthur whispered.

The older woman let out a loud sigh of relief.

Arthur looked at the dazzling blue sapphires and white diamonds which were connected to form a heart, hanging on a delicate silver chain. He rotated the pendant, looking up suddenly at Mrs. Blanch. "All these diamonds, the silver, and the top-notch sapphires; do you think they're too much? Like is this too flashy or expensive?"

Mrs. Blanch giggled. "No, it's not flashy in the least. And men buy what they can afford, so I couldn't say that it's _too _expensive. But I must say, this is a dazzling piece, and any woman would be very fortunate to receive it as a gift."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Forgive me, but I just want everythin' to be perfect. I've never bought jewelry before, and this gal, she's real simple and humble, ma'am." Arthur ignored the surprised look that was displayed on the owner's features. "She doesn't come from much, and I don't want to make her uncomfortable by buying her something too large, or expensive. Am I clear?"

Mrs. Blanch nodded thoughtfully. "I understand, sir. I'll give you my two cents, if that's what you're askin'?"

Arthur nodded.

"Now, I've been in this business for over twenty years, and rarely have I come across a necklace so beautiful, yet simple, a very hard balance to achieve. I think whoever gave that necklace to your mother had some extremely good taste." Mrs. Blanch picked up the case. "It's tremendously elegant, not gaudy. As I think you can see, it costs a pretty penny; but I don't think you mind that, do you?"

"No ma'am," Arthur chuckled.

"Well, I think it's settled then, sir. I say you should buy it, 'cause I can assure you that this necklace will be swiped off of the self the moment you mosey on outta here. You're special girl will love it, I promise."

Arthur looked at the necklace rubbing his chin, in thought. He felt the intense gaze of Mrs. Blanch boring a hole into his head. Was it really _that_ big of a risk to give to it to Gwen? At least he knew that she'd be too sweet to downright refuse it, yet he wanted her to be happy with it. He looked up to give Mrs. Blanch his final answer, but found her gaze over his head, smiling ear to ear.

"Ah, Ms. Remington, you're lookin' precious today, ma'am." Mrs. Blanch sang happily.

Arthur's eyes widened, before they shut tight, almost painfully. _Please God, let there be another Remington family in this town…_

"Ah, really Michelle? Bless your heart!"

Arthur heard Vivian squeak behind him, and the blood in his veins ran cold. _Why am I always in the wrong place at the wrong time? But Vivian…here? Of course. _He thought bitterly as he listened carefully to Vivian's light footsteps making her way across the store towards him and Mrs. Blanch. He kept his back to her, in a vain attempt to hide his identity for as long as he could.

"I'm here to pick up the ring I had cleaned. Is it ready?"

"Yes ma'am, it is." Mrs. Blanch turned to one of her employees, snapping her fingers at him. "Gerald, go and get Ms. Remington's ring. It's in my office."

Arthur felt Vivian finally stand behind him, as he vividly pictured her tilting her head to the side, displaying her look of puzzlement which she wore so well.

"Arthur? Is that you?"

Arthur realized that he'd have to look at her eventually; he may as well just bite the bullet now. In a swift motion, he turned to face Vivian, making sure his back covered Gwen's necklace from her view. "Hi, Vivian." He greeted her quietly, then sliding the velvet box in the opposite direction.

Vivian walked towards Arthur's left side, where he had moved the box. She craned her neck to obtain a glimpse of the impressive piece. "Why are_ you_ here?"

Arthur closed the velvet case quickly, turning to Mrs. Blanch who watched the two with a large grin. "I'll take it. Could you wrap it up for me? In pink?"

"Sure, Mr. Pendragon. And Ms. Remington, your ring will be out in a jiffy."

Vivian nodded before turning to Arthur, still waiting for her answer. "That was a fine necklace, there."

"It's for Morgana." Arthur stated simply. "But it's a surprise. So don't go on, gabbing about itto her."

"I won't, I won't." She promised.

Arthur turned away from Vivian, hoping she wasn't in the mood for conversation; but who was he kidding? He cringed as he heard Vivian's manicured nails tapping on the glass display impatiently.

"I swear, the service here seems to be gettin' slower and slower!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, sighing. "You just got here."

"I know, but I have an appointment I need to get to. I'm havin' a dress made for your father's 'Fall Ball' in two weeks, and I don't wanna be late."

Every year, Arthur was increasingly surprised at what a big deal everyone made about his father's yearly Fall Ball which he held at the estate. Since spring, his father had been making arrangements, hiring the nation's best: band, catering, and designer's, who would update the home's already exquisite décor for the ball's impressive guest list.

Yet, in Arthur's mind, the Fall Ball was just another dinner party (on a larger scale), and with even more intolerable guests. Everyone who was anyone was there. From ambassadors to governors, from directors to super models, Uther Pendragon's annual Fall Ball was an extremely exclusive and elaborate event for the country's elite.

"I heard that his year, _the _Edmond O'Brien is gonna be there!" Vivian squealed in excitement. When Vivian saw the relative apathy in Arthur's blue eyes, she elaborated. "You know, the actor?"

"Yeah, I've heard of him." Arthur watched Vivian turn around slightly, finally giving up her hopes that Arthur would finally engage in a conversation with her after all this time.

As Vivian waited for her ring, and Arthur for his gift, the young Pendragon wondered for the millionth time, how on earth he managed to like, even tolerate Vivian for so long.

Finally, Mrs. Blanch returned, with the velvet case in a box which was wrapped in a delicate pink rapping, with a dainty bow on top.

Despite Vivian's unwanted presence, Arthur smiled once he saw Gwen's gift ready for presentation. "Mrs. Blanch, I really do owe you one."

The older woman waved her hand dismissively. "Nonsense, it was my pleasure. Stop by sometime and let me know what this girl thought of it, would ya?"

"Yes'm, I will."

"And I have all of your payment information, so you're all set."

"Thank you again, and have a nice day."

"God bless, Mr. Pendragon."

Arthur nodded, glancing quickly at Vivian, before turning on his heels, and leaving the store. Vivian's eyes followed him all the way out, her attention refocused when she heard Mrs. Blanch clear her throat rather loudly.

"And here's your ring, Ms. Remington. It's the usual price," the woman informed as she moved behind the cash register, with Vivian following.

Vivian rummaged through her purse, pulling out her wallet, handing Mrs. Blanch the appropriate amount of cash.

"Have a nice afternoon miss," the jeweler offered once the transaction was complete.

Vivian nodded silently, her focus obviously somewhere else. Without further recognition of Mrs. Blanch's pleasantries, Vivian made her way to the entrance of the store, resting her hand on the door before she took pause. She turned her head slightly, looking at the confused Mrs. Blanch.

"Can I help you with something else, dear?"

Vivian swallowed, pushing some hair out of her face, as she nodded, moving away from the door. "Yes ma'am." She walked to the display table, tapping her fingernails nervously against the glass. "That necklace Arthur bought; it was just beautiful, wasn't it?"

"Oh yes!" Mrs. Blanch agreed whole heartedly, a hand flying to her chest.

Vivian carefully watched the woman's reaction, as she calculated her next words. "And those rubies! Oh my, I've never seen a more dazzlin' red color in my life, I do declare."

Mrs. Blanch tilted her head back in laughter. "No dear, those weren't rubies!"

Vivian feigned a look of confusion. "Really?"

The woman beckoned Vivian to the display table a few yards away. "The gems you saw on the necklace Arthur had made—"

"Made?" Vivian asked, now genuinely confused.

"I'll tell you, it was the quaintest thing. He came in weeks ago with a prototype; apparently his mother had a necklace just like it." Mrs. Blanch pointed in the glass display case to the identical necklace. "He was insistent that I only get _the _best blue sapphires, they're from Sri Lanka."

"Really?"

"Of course, and next to the sapphires are white diamonds, on a chain that's pure silver." The jeweler looked at Vivian, whose attention was captured by the stunning pendant.

"Would it be too much trouble for me to see it? Like out of the display?"

"Not at all," Mrs. Blanch said, unlocking the case. She laid the open velvet case gingerly in front of Vivian, admiring it herself for the hundredth time.

Vivian's soft hands ran over the heart pendant, as a great sadness washed over her. Why couldn't they be rubies?

"Are you interested? It'll be gone soon, I assure you."

Vivian swallowed the lump which was arising in her throat. "No ma'am. I just wanted a better look." She sniffled quickly. "H-have, a nice day." Vivian didn't give the owner a chance to respond, for she had quickly fled the store, nearly running into her car which was parked across the street. In a heightening frenzy, she took the keys out of her bag, whimpering in frustration, as her hand trembled too much to hold the key steady. After much trial, Vivian had managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind her. She threw her bag furiously in the back, and it was then when she finally allowed the tears to fall freely. She covered her face in her hands, as he shoulders heaved violently with her desperate sobs.

It was true. Everything she had suspected, what Morgana had confirmed; it was all true. Vivian was forced to acknowledge the fact that Arthur had moved on. Yet, what hurt the most was that this mystery girl, who he had successfully kept hidden, must not have been someone casual…someone like her. She and Arthur had been together on and off for nearly a year, and never had he purchased anything so sentimental for her. In fact, she had given him _everything_. From her heart to her virginity, Vivian loved Arthur with all her heart, and she thought that he had loved her too. Yet, all of that came to an end when she found him in the back of another girl's car—she didn't want to even finish the thought. But out of her deep affections, she was able to muster enough forgiveness, and this is how he finally repaid her?

Not only the past betrayal ate away at Vivian Remington, but that Arthur considered her to be too dumb to see right through his lies. The moment Arthur said the necklace was for Morgana; Vivian knew. Arthur would _never_ buy blue sapphires for his cousin, whose birthstone _and _favorite gem were blood-red rubies.

_Why couldn't they just be fucking rubies?_

Vivian wiped her eyes desperately, as she realized her makeup would be smudged terribly if she continued. She had no more tears left to spare anyway. Her spell of sorrow had passed; the only thing she felt now was rage, sheer fury. Anger at herself for ever letting Arthur go, for taking him for granted. At him, for using her and moving on to someone else when he had promised in the moment of passion that he would be loyal to her forever. But most importantly, Vivian Remington was angry with the woman whose appearance and name were still a mystery to her. It was all_ her_ fault. It was this girl who stood between a final reconciliation with herself and Arthur. It was this girl who had obviously captured Arthur's heart so quickly, something which Vivian failed in doing, even after years of effort.

Oh, this girl would pay; if it was the last thing Vivian Remington would do, Arthur would be hers once again. It was just meant to be, and no mysterious tramp could change that.

_Title Inspired by "The Disasterist" by Rosaline_


	15. Chapter 15

_Blah, blah, blah, I'll skip my usual ramblings. But, add "My Love, My Secret" to your Story Alert, so you'll be the first to see the fallout from this chapter's main event in 16._

_Wait; not done! Okay, I have to express my shock and all encompassing joy, when I found out that I have readers of the male variety! This may have been an obtuse assumption, but I always thought that all of my readers were female, and I always said to myself: "I wonder if any men read my story…" But on the last chapter I got a couple of comments from guys, and I was totally over the moon about it! (I'm not sure why; I'm a freak.) Anyway, I love all of my readers, whether they are male of female; thanks for reading and commenting._

**_P.S.: I named this chapter after a music video our beloved Rupert Young (Sir Leon) was in. I am a total fan-girl when it comes to him, he has my heart! The song is by a band called "Worship"; go and watch it on YouTube :D_**

_YoureAnIllusion _

**Chapter 15: House of Glass**

"Gwen, Gwen, Gwen." Elliot continued to say his sister's name in a rhythm, shaking her shoulder with each call, until she finally stirred.

"Elliot, get off of me," Gwen protested, moving her shoulders, opening her eyes to find her brother watching her with the biggest smile. "It's my day off, why are you waking me up?" Gwen asked rubbing her tired eyes. She looked at her clock, which prompted a groan. "Elliot, you must be out of your mind, waking me up so early on my free day!" Gwen shot up, fully awake.

"It's your birthday, Gwen! Don't you remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Gwen replied, scratching her head with a shy smile. "Y'all didn't get me anything…did you?"

"Even better: Pop and I made you breakfast. Come to the kitchen," Elliot took his sister's hand, gently pulling her out of the bed.

Gwen laughed. "I'm too young to die," she quipped, following Elliot out of the room

"Ah, Gwen baby, you're up!" Tom sang happily as soon as she saw his daughter emerge from the hallway. He turned, switching the stove off, he too sporting a large grin. "Elliot and I fixed you some breakfast."

"I heard." Gwen smiled, sitting in the chair which Elliot had pulled out for her. "You're tunin' into a regular ol' gentleman," she teased, as he father laid a large plate in front of her. "Thanks, it looks…" Gwen looked down at her plate, doing her best not to cringe at the food; this is why she did all of the cooking. She looked up at her brother and father, who watched her with extreme pride and baited breath; she didn't have the heart to crush their spirit. "It looks great!" She said with a near grimace.

"Now, Elliot and I sure aint chefs or nothin', but we can scramble an egg or two, fry some bacon, and whip up a biscuit," Tom informed his daughter proudly, folding his arms over his chest.

Gwen looked at the lump of nearly burnt dough resting on the side of her plate, assuming _that _was the biscuit her father was referring to. Bravely, she took a bite of her eggs, for they didn't look too lethal.

"Is it good?" Elliot asked.

"Very good," Gwen nodded. She took some more small bites. "Where's your breakfast, y'all?"

"We ate already; we have to leave for our course soon." Tom said putting on his jacket. "Now Gwen, 'm trusting you'll hold down the fort?"

"I'll be fine, I promise Daddy."

"Ok, Elliot and I are in Andover, and if anything happens, we'll be right over, you hear?"

"Yes sir."

"Now, we'll be back on Monday, so we won't be gone that long." Tom bent over giving his daughter a kiss, with Elliot following suit.

Gwen tilted her head. "Daddy, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me; go learn about engines and all that stuff."

Tom nodded, opening the door slightly, turning to his daughter, wishing her a happy birthday one last time.

Gwen waved goodbye to her brother and father as she heard Tom commenting to Elliot right before the door was closed. "Twenty? Can you believe it?"

Gwen looked down at her plate the moment Elliot and Tom had left, taking the plate to the trash-bin. She wasn't one for wasting food, but hardly anything else was edible. She tossed it in the trash, putting the plate in the sink; she wasn't that hungry any way. Standing alone in the kitchen, her hands on her hips, Gwen wondered what she'd do with herself now that she didn't have to run errands for her family.

Her attention was caught by the carpet in the living room. _Hmm…that carpet could use a good scrubbing. And that bathroom, I'll clean that up too…and that dress needs mending..._ Gwen's mind wandered to all of the little chores around the house that needed completion, and she felt reassured that the day wouldn't be wasted with idleness.

* * *

><p>Uther waved over a servant, sitting back as he waited for his glass to be refilled with orange juice. Once she stepped away, Uther rubbed his hands together in excitement. "So Arthur, are you excited, son?" He asked with a proud smile, wiping his hands on the linen napkin.<p>

Arthur nodded. "It'll be surreal going into the office with some sort of job, not just as 'the boss' kid'."

Uther nodded in understanding. "This is no little job, Arthur. You've been making such tremendous progress in school lately; it only made sense to move our timeline up a bit. Now, you'll get your feet wet in the real estate market, and these are the days which will prepare you to take my job eventually."

"I'm ready Father; I've been waiting for this day for quite some time."

"Very good," Uther said raising his glass, with a slight nod.

Arthur turned away from his father happily, his gaze colliding with Morgana's, who had been sitting quietly on the other side of the table. If Arthur hadn't known any better, he would have been startled, perhaps even unnerved by Morgana's intense gaze.

"Morgana, do you have any plans today?" Uther asked his unusually quiet niece.

Morgana looked away from her cousin, regrouping her thoughts. "Uhh, I was planning on getting my hair and nails done, then eating supper with Vivian."

Uther put up a hand signal, alerting the servant that he was finished with his food. "Vivian Remington? You've become very close to that girl, haven't you?"

"Yes Unle, we've really struck a chord."

"Maybe you could take Arthur with you…?" Uther half-teased, grinning at his son.

Arthur's eyebrow raised as he watched Morgana and his father giggle together.

"How about it, Arthur?" Morgana asked, tilting her head.

"You know, it's _awfully _tempting; but I think I'll skip the 'Vivian Train'."

Morgana picked up her glass, looking Arthur in the eye. "Boarding another train instead?" She asked without hesitating.

Uther looked at the interaction between his son and nephew, thoroughly amused.

Arthur looked Morgana in the eye as well, trying to read them, but it was too difficult with her. Her light green eyes boring into his, almost like a challenge. Arthur cleared his throat, looking to his father.

"Speaking of Vivian; are you going to be her escort to the fall ball?" Uther asked.

"Haven't we spoken of this? I don't really like her."

"But you can't go alone," Morgana goaded. "I know Vivian would die to go with you."

Arthur scoffed. "You're such good friends with her; tell the girl not to hold her breath."

"Arthur…" Uther warned sternly.

"I'll go alone Father, let Vivian take someone else, I'm sure she won't have any trouble finding another guy."

"Arthur, I have yet to understand you, son. That girl is a charm."

"Whatever you say, Father."

* * *

><p>The sounds of thunder and lightning roared in the dark night sky, as Guinevere Gibson turned off her kitchen stove, watching her pot begin to simmer. Though Gwen was hesitant to admit it, she would rather be at the Pendragon house changing bed sheets, than at home, engulfed in complete boredom. At the Pendragon Estate, Gwen could at least speak with Arthur, or chat and joke with Morgana. Having free time wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.<p>

She walked to the table where the family's ham radio sat, adjusting a knob to alter the static which was coming through the channel. Gwen's attention was caught suddenly by a loud rapping at her back door, jarring her into an upright position. She heard it two more times, evoking a small gasp. It had turned dark an hour ago, and she surely wasn't expecting visitors. This was the downside of having a home with a backyard which connected directly to the woods. Anybody could walk up to her home, a fact which unnerved her greatly.

Gwen believed that if she remained silent, whoever was at the door would leave…but she had so many lights on; they had to know she was home. She was trapped.

"It's me!"

Gwen heard from the other side of the door, yet she could hardly distinguish who "me" was through all of the natural noise occurring outside.

"Gwen, it's Arthur!" He yelled, pressing his cheek against the door.

"Arthur?"

"Guinevere, I'm getting _soaked_!" Arthur called out testily, knocking again.

"Oh, goodness," Gwen snapped out of her daze, unlocking the back door, and opening it. She found a very drenched Arthur, standing there with an extremely dopy grin on his face.

"Hi," he said plainly, as if the situation was completely normal.

"Arthur, get in here before someone sees you!" Gwen hissed, skipping the pleasantries, as she practically pulled him inside. "Arthur, have you lost your mind?" Gwen asked, even before she had closed the back door completely. When she had, she looked at the sopping wet Arthur, who was beginning to form a puddle on her carpet.

"No one saw me, I promise," Arthur assured her. "Remember that back road you told me about, which runs directly behind your house, and is separated by the woods?"

Gwen blinked, forgetting that she had even told him that. "You came through there?"

Arthur smiled, as he nodded. "I had to see you," he pulled her in for a kiss, before Gwen put her hands against his chest, intercepting the gesture.

"Arthur, you're wet!" Gwen nearly squealed in disgust.

Arthur stepped back, looking at the clothes which were plastered to his skin. "Oh, yeah."

"Here, come with me," Gwen said shaking her head, directing Arthur to the bathroom, where she brought him two clean towels. "I can't believe that you successfully snuck into my neighborhood," Gwen said laughing, as she wrapped a towel around Arthur's shoulders, rubbing them down.

"Maybe I should be a spy, instead of running the family business?"

Gwen laughed, shrugging. "Who knows." But then more seriously: "why are you here, really Arthur?"

"Do I need a reason to come see you? You know, I haven't been to your house once?" Arthur said looking around the small bathroom.

"Uhh…there's a reason for that. And besides, there's nothing too special 'bout it."

"Well, today's special, it's your birthday, and with your family gone, it was all too perfect."

"Arthur, you're so sweet," Gwen whispered, going up on her toes to give him a kiss on his cheek. "I can't say I completely object…I just hope no one saw you."

"I highly doubt anyone did," Arthur replied, kicking off his expensive black dress shoes.

Gwen looked down at the rest of Arthur's attire, noting that his entire outfit was rather dressy. "Did you go to church, or something?" She asked motioning to his body with her hands.

"Nope; you're looking at the newest employee of Dragon Real Estate."

Gwen raised her eyebrows, taking a step back. "Oh, really? I thought that wasn't happening until next semester?"

Arthur shook his head, unbuttoning the top of his light blue shirt. "It wasn't supposed to happen so quickly, but I guess my father got anxious." He held out his wrists so Gwen could undo his cuff links.

She didn't hesitate, taking his left wrist into her hands. "You're movin' on up then?"

Arthur looked down at her, nodding. "I guess. It's just part time for now."

"I'm done," Gwen said letting go of Arthur's right wrist. Her gaze moved down to his partially open shirt. "Let me get you a shirt," then "and some pants!"

Arthur looked at his wet and muddy black slacks, deciding that he may as well throw them in the trash.

Moments later, Gwen reappeared with a white short-sleeved t-shirt and pair of blue jeans.

Arthur shrugged off his shirt, replacing it with Elliot's. "So, what were you doing before I came?"

"Oh, I was just fixin' some supper. Have you eaten?"

"No," Arthur replied, taking off his belt. "I came here right after work; I haven't stopped home."

Gwen spun on her heels, turning her back to Arthur as he stepped out of his slacks. She listened to him chuckle a little before she responded. "Stay and eat with me then, would you? I made enough for two…"

"Of course." Arthur replied, clearing his throat. "You can turn around now."

Gwen faced Arthur once again, waving her hands for Arthur to follow her out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen.

"Are you going to give me a grand tour?" Arthur asked peeking into the living room, while Gwen stood in front of the stove.

He heard Gwen laugh sweetly from the kitchen. "What grand tour? You've basically seen my entire house already."

"'Basically' isn't completely," Arthur replied walking back to the kitchen. He found Gwen straining on her tip toes to reach two plates. "Here," Arthur offered, taking them down with ease. He handed them to her, resting his elbows on the counter as he watched Gwen in her natural habitat. "Whatever that is, it smells really good!"

"Ah, thanks. It's my mama's recipe for chicken 'n' dumplings," Gwen replied, taking a ladel from a nearby drawer.

Arthur watched Gwen serve out the food on the two plates, pulling out her chair for her to sit in afterward. Arthur plopped down into his own seat, eyeing the food with joy. "Boy, this looks—" Arthur paused, with his utensils in hand, ready to dive into the food, only to find Gwen's head bowed in prayer next to him. "Oops," he said to himself setting down his knife and fork. He promptly crossed himself, and said his own blessing. When he was finished, he found Gwen looking at him, smiling. "You make me feel so guilty sometimes," Arthur confessed, taking up his utensils again.

Gwen did the same as she replied. "No need to feel guilty Arthur, it's a habit."

"One that's fallen out of practice for me…"

Gwen said nothing else as she began eating. "Is it alright? It's not too salty is it? I can get you some water—"

"Stop frettin' Guinevere, it's delicious," Arthur assured her, after swallowing.

"Okay." There were a few moments of silence, before Gwen spoke up again. "So, Dragon Real Estate's newest employee, tell me about your first day."

Arthur sighed happily at the not-too-distant memory. "Well, it was everything I thought it would be and more. Since I was a little boy, all I wanted to do was work there with my father," Arthur smiled to himself as he remembered his happy childhood, the time when he idolized his father. "It's just a starting position, because I don't graduate 'til next semester. But because everyone knew me, they were all so helpful. I have my own office, Guinevere!" Arthur exclaimed almost giddily.

Gwen raised her eyebrows slightly. "Really? Your own office?"

"Yeah, it's really nice. It's right next to Father's."

"Wow, Arthur. Before you know it, you'll be running the business!" Gwen laughed, watching Arthur's light blue eyes illuminate.

"Golly, I hope not Guinevere. My father does such a good job running the business, and I'm not nearly prepared to be President. Even the thought is a little overwhelming," Arthur said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair.

Gwen rested a hand on Arthur's, rubbing it affectionately. "Whenever the time comes, I know you'll make an excellent President of Dragon Real Estate."

"And you?" Arthur paused, realizing that he and Gwen never really spoke of the future. "You'll make an even more wonderful first lady."

Gwen's cheeks began to take on color, as she moved her hand from Arthur's, to rest on her chest. "Oh, no Arthur. I'm just…Gwen, plain and simple; Gwen the maid. Besides, I doubt I'll be the first lady of anything. I am Gwen the _colored_ maid." She reminded him, as if he didn't know already.

Arthur grinned. "I'm know; but by time I'm running Dragon Real Estate, no one will care that you're a colored; and if they do, they can go to hell. We'll live happily, far away from all the idiots who make up our town."

"You plan on keeping me around that long, Arthur Pendragon?" Gwen asked with an amused smirk, and her dark eyes dancing playfully.

"What if I said 'yes'; would you stay?"

"And what if I said 'yes' too?"

"I asked the question first, Guinevere," Arthur groaned impatiently.

Gwen shrugged casually. "We'll have to see, won't we? Who knows; months ago I was working at a diner, serving a bunch of brats their supper. Then I actually get a job in the home of one of them—"

"Hey!"

"Then here I am, eating dinner on my twentieth birthday, with one of those brats, who I happen to sort of like now," she teased laughing.

"A lot of things sure have happened, since that summer night," Arthur agreed with a broad smile

"I know; my world's been turned upside down since."

"In a good or bad way?"

"A good way," Gwen said with a shrug.

"Me too; I'm much happier, and rid of all the junk which used to consume my time."

"Junk like what?"

Arthur shrugged. "I hopped from thrill to thrill, from girl to girl all that jazz; I'm sure you've heard." Arthur laughed cynically. "The sad part is: whatever rumors you've heard, most of them were probably true."

Before Gwen could stop herself, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "Arthur, how many girls have you been with?"

There was a moment of silence, where neither Arthur or Gwen moved. It was when Gwen saw Arthur visibly wince; that she wished her kitchen floor would open up, and swallow her whole. "I'm sorry Arthur, that was so rude. You don't have to answer that."

Arthur watched Gwen across the table, setting his fork down, sighing as he ran a hand through his blonde hair. "You know, we can't skirt around it forever," Arthur said with a sigh.

Gwen covered her eyes with her hands in total embarrassment. "Forget I said anything, please."

"I'll tell you, I'm sure you've wondered. I'll tell you if it'll put your mid to rest."

Gwen resisted the urge to begin to bite her nails, as she looked away from Arthur, thinking of her options. "I want to know."

"You're gonna think I'm terrible…" Arthur began.

"No, I won't Arthur."

"Nine." Arthur finally revealed. Once the single word fell from his lips, he took in a large breath, preparing for the worst.

"Nine?" Gwen finally whispered, literally holding onto her chair.

Arthur shook his head slightly, wishing that he had accepted the water Gwen had offered earlier, for his throat felt extremely dry, and his voice raspy. He had been wondering when Gwen would finally become curious, or even brave enough to ask him about his past with women. He wasn't sure what he expected; total all encompassing disgust, anger, yelling…but the only thing she had been able to do was repeat. Arthur ran another hand through his hair, resting it on the back of his head as he sighed. "Do I make you sick, now?"

"No," Gwen replied softly shaking her head.

"I can only imagine what you think, because when I remember all the thing I've done now, it makes me pretty queasy."

"I'm…I didn't think it'd be that many." Gwen looked at Arthur a little sadly, her voice a low and tender whisper.

"This is why I didn't tell you earlier," Arthur said bitterly.

"I didn't want to know any earlier," Gwen corrected him. "You don't disgust me Arthur; it just makes me…sad; for you."

"Don't pity me, I made those choices," Arthur said picking up his fork again.

Gwen looked down at her plate, feeling extremely guilty for opening up a still raw wound. "Arthur," she began reaching out to cover his hand, which felt cool and tense under her touch. "This doesn't change anything. People make mistakes, okay? The only thing that matters is that you're nothing like that today."

Arthur looked at Gwen, all anger in his voice washed away, replaced by regret "You know, I hear you Guinevere, and I want to believe it. But I'm not sure that's true."

"What do you mean Arthur? You're a _completely_ different person."

Arthur laughed, tilting his head downward. "Old habits die hard."

Gwen's eyes narrowed, as she retracted her hand. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Arthur closed his eyes, smacking his forehead, as he replayed his poor choice of words. "I didn't mean that I was steppin' out on you, or anything. What I meant is that sometimes I wonder if I've _really_ changed after all. What if I'm really as bad as everyone thinks I am, and I just slip into my old habits, like an ol' drunkard?"

Gwen lowered her eyes, unaware that Arthur had thought so poorly of himself; if only he could see himself the way she did. "Arthur, you're not like that."

"But how do you _know_, Guinevere?" Arthur said slamming a fist to the table, causing Gwen to leap a little in her seat. "How do youknowthat I'm gonna be good to you? I mean, I haven't got a good track record; you knew _that_ at least."

"If you're trying to scare me, Arthur; you're doing a pretty good job." Gwen said, pushing herself away from the table, standing in agitation.

Arthur stood too, stopping Gwen from leaving the kitchen. "Guinevere, I don't want to argue," he apologized, softening his voice in an attempt to reduce the tension in the small room.

"I'm not mad at you Arthur, but it's just…all of these emotions, all of these _details_ I don't know what to do with them. And, I would be a downright liar if I said that the fact that you've slept with nine girls doesn't disturb me."

"And it should; hell, I disturb myself! I don't feel good enough for you," he admitted.

Gwen rubbed his cheek, with a sigh. "Don't say that Arthur; I'm not perfect either."

"Yes you are," he said, covering her hand with his.

"Part of me wishes that you hadn't done all those things with those girls."

"But it didn't mean anything, none of them meant a damn thing to me. But you're not like that, not even close."

"I wish you hadn't shared such an important part of you in such a meaningless way."

"Well what can I do? How can I make that up to you Guinevere; I can't rewind history," Arthur asked not in anger, but in his want to obtain some sort of redemption in her eyes.

"You have to promise to respect me," Gwen said looking him in the eye, as he stood before her without flinching.

"I will."

"And respect the fact that you and I aren't gonna be going _there_, unless we get married."

Arthur's eyes widened, not at the prospect of actually having to wait for something, but the fact that Gwen herself was so virtuous, and yet loved him, and that she actually said the "m" word. He felt his Adam's apple begin to bob, and his hands begin to sweat.

"Okay Guinevere; whatever you want."

* * *

><p>"You have so many books!" Arthur gasped, turning away from Gwen's bookcase, watching her sit on her bed, sewing a button onto a dress.<p>

"You think so? I'd love more, but there's a thing called money."

Arthur plopped down next to Guinevere on the bed, picking up the dress which lay in her lap, putting it on her bedside table.

"What are you doing?" She asked reaching towards her dress.

"Youturned twenty today…that's a big deal, isn't it?"

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "It's just any other day; it doesn't really make a difference to me"

"Well, it does to me," Arthur said reaching into the pocket of Elliot's pants.

Gwen's face dropped at the moment she had been waiting for. "Oh no…you bought me something; didn't you Arthur?"

Arthur nodded with a smile. "I wanted to give you something to show you how much I care about you, a small token."

Gwen eyed the large black velvet box which Arthur had taken out, pointing at it. "I highly doubt whatever is in there is_ small_."

"Close your eyes," Arthur instructed, ignoring the remark. "No peeking," he added seriously.

Gwen groaned, as she put a hand over each eye. She could hear the jewelry box snap open, and Arthur exhale. Even though she wish Arthur hadn't purchased anything for her (much less jewelry), she did become excited as she felt the cool box rest on her bare thigh. "Can I open my eyes now?" She asked with a bright smile.

"Yes, you can open them now." Arthur watched Gwen move her hands from her face quickly, dropping them to her knees, which were pulled into her chest.

Gwen's jaw immediately extended in awe, as a hand flew to cover her open mouth. She looked at the jewelry box, and immediately felt light-headed, as the dazzling sapphires and diamonds gleamed straight to her wide eyes. She look up at an extremely nervous Arthur who sat inches away from her, his unsteady hands resting at the sides of the box.

"Oh, Lord…" She whispered, finally picking up the open case. She looked at the beautiful necklace, then up at Arthur, then back at the necklace in a swivel motion. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…Arthur, I can't accept this!" She exclaimed, still clutching onto the box.

Arthur would have been hurt, had he not prepared for this moment; he knew Gwen all too well. He rubbed her legs, as he began to explain. "No Gwen, you're gonna take it," he stated plainly.

"I am?"

Arthur nodded, as if it was totally obvious. "I know how you are, and that you don't like taking things from people. But I want you to have this, it means a lot to me. My mother was given—"

"Oh, Arthur! This was your mothers? Then I_ really_ can't take it."

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head vigorously. "No, no. I was gonna say that my mother was given one just like it to my mother. So I had one made for you with your birthstone in it, instead of hers. And apparently, the sapphire is a symbol of steadfastness and loyalty."

Gwen's eyes had been glued on the radiant blue jewels, and white diamonds, but she raised her gaze at Arthur's last words. "Arthur, I've never had anything so pretty…or expensive."

Arthur wrapped his arms around Gwen, as she rested her head on his chest, where she could feel his heart pounding.

"Please take it Gwen. I want you to have something from me."

"But you've given me enough Arthur. I don't need anything fancy."

Arthur sighed, as he took the open box from Gwen's hands, taking the necklace out. Despite her protest, Arthur took the liberty of fastening the piece around Gwen's neck, the cool pendant falling on her breast. He craned his neck slightly to look at her, kissing her on the cheek. "It looks beautiful on you Guinevere, just like I knew it would."

Gwen felt the pendant with her fingers. "I'll keep it. But please, whatever you do; don't tell me how much this cost."

"If I did, then you _really _wouldn't take it," Arthur chuckled.

Gwen groaned. "But Arthur, people will see me with this; my family will see me with it! What will they think?"

"Just wear it underneath your clothing, no one has to see." He said lifting the necklace by the chain until it fell under her shirt. "It'll be like our little secret."

"You mean our _other _little secret?"

Arthur laughed, as his index finger traced the skin which the pendant rested on, bringing his lips to Gwen's ears, as he felt her quiver. "Every time you feel it, think of me."

"Arthur, you're little devil!" Gwen teased, pushing against his shoulder.

Gwen felt Arthur's soft and full lips lower to her neck, lining small kisses as he noted how the silver contrasted magnificently with Gwen's radiant skin.

Gwen ran her hand through Arthur's hair which was still slightly wet, as she lay on her back, pulling Arthur down with her.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" He asked out of breath, between trailing kisses on her collar bone, evoking the slight arch of Gwen's back, and a series of giggles.

"Guinevere, you're just so beautiful," he barely mumbled, his head nestled between her shoulder and neck.

Gwen pushed some of Arthur's damp hair away from his forehead tenderly. "Arthur, I don't want you to go; not yet. Promise you'll stay with me for a little longer?"

He blinked, propping himself on his elbows as he felt Gwen's smooth calf slide up his own. "Okay, I will," Arthur agreed, rubbing her soft cheek. He lowered his lips to her ear yet again, as his arm slid around her waist. "Guinevere, tell me how much—"

One moment Gwen's ears were being tickled by Arthur's sweet words, and her body responding to his hot touch, and the next, all she could feel was the cold which came from space, and the sound of Arthur's weight crashing against a wall. She sat up, to find Arthur halfway across the room and….Elliot? Gwen's eyes widened as her mind began to register what was happening, after a few split seconds. There stood her brother, drenched from the storms, charging towards Arthur who had just been shoved against the wall, unable to stand before Elliot's fist collided with his chiseled jaw.

"Keep your fucking hands off of my sister!" Elliot roared, as his blow came in contact with Arthur's face.

Jumping off of her bed, Gwen ran to stand behind her brother, pulling her away from Arthur. "Elliot! Stop it, you're hurting him!"

Elliot barely had enough time to avoid hitting his sister with his elbow, as he felt himself being pulled away from the intruder. "I'm gonna kill him!"

Arthur had mustered enough strength to stand, with blood trickling from his nose.

Gwen could hear Elliot panting, and gear up for another running start at her boyfriend. "Elliot! Stop it!" She screamed, pushing Elliot in the chest with all her might, which hardly stirred a reaction. "What are you doing here?" She asked looking towards Arthur.

Elliot paused, his chest heaving uncontrollably, as he managed to pull his angry gaze away from Arthur, and towards his sister. "We forgot Pop's pain medicine, I came back for it. But none of that matters: are you alright? Did this bastard hurt you?"

"I wasn't doing anything to her!" Arthur roared, before the terrified Gwen could speak.

"You shut the fuck up!" Elliot yelled, pointing angrily at Arthur.

"Elliot, he's telling the truth; he wasn't hurting me."

"Gwen! I saw him on top of you with my own two eyes! Did he take advantage of you?" Elliot asked, softening his voice with his last question. He waited a few moments, and Gwen hadn't uttered another word. "You're one lousy piece of shit, you know that?" Elliot challenged Arthur directly, looking him straight in the eye. "I don't care who your family is! But you're not gonna come in my house, and take advantage of my sister!"

"I wasn't attacking her!" Arthur replied gruffly, shoving Elliot in the chest, sending him staggering backward.

Gwen ran in front of Arthur now, placing a hand on his chest. "Arthur, please," she hissed. Moments later, she felt her arm being pulled violently in the other direction by her brother, dragging her next to him.

"What the hell is going on here, Gwen?" Elliot asked looking at his obviously distraught sister. "Will you tell me what this prick was doin' to you?"

Gwen looked at Arthur, detecting fire under his light blue eyes. She looked at her brother who was as equally angry, but confused at the entire situation. She covered her face in desperation, praying that she would receive the words necessary to diffuse the situation. "Elliot…you got it all wrong," she hardly whispered, looking at the bloodied Arthur once again.

Elliot took a step back involuntarily, putting his hands up, already mentally connecting the puzzle pieces, his eyes narrowing. "Oh, Gwen…"

"Arthur wasn't takin' advantage of me. He was kissing me; with my permission." Gwen sucked in a large breath, waiting for Elliot to blow up again.

"Oh Lord…" Elliot whispered, taking a step backwards, waving his hands. "Gwen, say it aint so…" He pleaded, his shoulders slumping visibly.

"Arthur and I, we….we're…" Gwen couldn't bring herself to complete the sentence.

"We're seeing each other," Arthur finished, resisting the urge to wrap an arm around Gwen's trembling shoulders.

Elliot's eyes remained wide in shock, as he looked back and forth between Arthur and his sister. "Y'all are jokin', right? This is some sick practical joke, aint it?"

Gwen shook her head. "No."

Elliot spun around, putting his hands behind his head, taking deep breaths, as Arthur and Gwen listened to him countdown slowly and steadily from ten.

"Elliot, say somethin'—"

Elliot spun on his heels quickly, his arms outstretched for Arthur's throat. "I'm gonna kill you, you fucking bastard!" He yelled charging at the Pendragon for the second time.

Gwen screamed, jumping out of the way of her frenzied brother, her back hitting the wall, as Arthur managed to leap out of Elliot's path as well. Her brother went crashing into the bookcase, glaring up at Arthur once he regained his footing.

"Guinevere, are you— "

"I don't wanna hear her name coming out of your mouth again!" Elliot interrupted, finally gaining complete balance.

"What are _you_ going to do about it?" Arthur asked taking a step to him.

Elliot tilted his head. "White boy, do you _really_—"

"Stop it!" Gwen yelled stomping her foot down on the carpeted ground, gaining the attention of the two men in the room. "Both of y'all, just quit it!" Her voice immediately felt hoarse the moment the words had escaped her dry lips.

Elliot and Arthur turned away from each other's sweltering gaze, looking unto the woman who they both cared for.

"Arthur, I don't want your hands on Elliot again!"

Elliot couldn't resist the smug grin which emerged on his face, as he watched Arthur back down; just like the coward he had pegged him for.

"And_ you_, Elliot Marcus!" Gwen's voice became low and aggressive. "I don't want you chargin' at Arthur like some savage beast! Would both of y'all just calm down?" She begged in desperation; she needed some amount of control on the situation.

"But—"

"Just listen, Elliot!" Gwen interrupted, holding up her hands. Once she knew she had his full attention, she continued. "I know you don't want to hear it, but there's no denyin' it: I'm with Arthur, I _want_ to be with him." Arthur moved to stand next to Gwen, offering her a tidbit of reassurance.

"Gwen, why would you do this? Did you get dumb all of a sudden?"

"Elliot, I'm not stupid. Being with Arthur is what I want, he makes me happy; does that mean I'm dumb?"

"Out of all the colored girls who throw themselves at the feet of a white man…I never thought it'd be you," Elliot said through gritted teeth.

"Don't talk about her like that!" Arthur finally came to her defense, unleashing the words which had been at the tip of his tongue.

"And you," Elliot said pointing at Arthur ferociously, with steady speech. "Don't your money and all your fancy things get you enough girls to knock boots with?"

"Elliot, it's not like that!" Gwen pleaded in vain.

Elliot ignored his sister, directing his poignant question to his enemy. "Why my sister, huh? Why Gwen?"

Arthur looked at Guinevere, who had her hands covering her face once again. "It's not what you think. I'm not using Guinevere like that."

"Why is it then, that y'all have been sneakin' 'round like some low-down snakes?"

"What else could we do? Our relationship isn't a secret 'cause ashamed of her, or 'cause I don't care 'bout her; it's just because we don't want reactions like _this_!"

Elliot snorted loudly. "Bullshit. I find that mighty hard to believe, seen as you run 'round town sleepin' with any woman with two legs!"

Arthur narrowed his eyes, as he reminded himself that becoming angry again would only succeed in upsetting Gwen. "We're not doing anything like that," Arthur stated plainly, with more calm and ease than he felt.

Elliot scoffed. "I wasn't born yesterday, y'all. I know what I saw; if I hadn't come in here when I did, then—" Elliot stopped himself, giving Arthur a revolted onceover. "Gwen, I expect this from someone like _him_…but Pop aint raised you right?"

Gwen's shoulders slumped, as she wished Elliot couldn't make her feel guilty so quickly. "Don't bring Daddy into this; this has nothin' to do with him."

Some anger seeped out of Elliot's tone, replaced by a profound sadness and disappointment. "This has everything to do with him! It's our family whose gonna be dragged through the mud with this!" Elliot scratched his head. "I just don't understand it Gwen; how you are able to lower yourself to be some white man's tramp. How could you do this to yourself, to me, to Pop?" Elliot sighed heavily, putting his hands on his hips in reflection. "Pop is gonna be crushed proper when he finds out."

"No! Elliot, you can't tell him!" Gwen burst out, stepping towards her brother in desperation.

"I have to tell him! I'm not fixin' to let y'all continue this, this, this _thing_! What y'all are doin' aint just stupid, but it's downright dangerous."

"How is telling your father gonna fix anything, here? It'll only make things worse," Arthur argued.

Elliot threw up his arms in anger and desperation. "Worse? What's gonna be 'worse' is the life we'll be forced to live once _your _hisfather finds out 'bout this lil' affair. It's our family whose gonna be whispered bout 'round town, until we'll finally have to up and move." Elliot drove his index finger into his head repeatedly. "Think, have y'all stopped a moment to actually _think_? Raymond and his family got dragged into a downright mess, all'cause he couldn't stick with his own." Elliot turned to Arthur, refusing to address him by name. "You know where the Neely's are now? Huh, white boy? You know where they were forced to go?"

"No, I don't know," Arthur admitted through gritted teeth.

"To Chicago; they had to move half way 'cross the country, because of the same thing y'all two are doin'. Now if you really cared for my sister as much as you say you do, then you'd high tail your white ass on outta here, and let our family be."

"I can't do that."

"Tell me this then: where the_ hell _are you gonna be when the Klan comes runnin' to our house, and burns it to the ground?"

Arthur remained silent, provoking a grunt and eye-roll from Elliot.

"That's what I thought. You'll be in your fancy mansion with your family, and all your lil' servants, while we'll be here fendin' for ourselves, as we've always done." Elliot looked at his sister, who was silent as well, looking down at the ground. Perhaps his points were finally resonating. "Just leave us alone while you still can. It's better for everyone; you and Gwen can't have anything real with each other; this fling won't amount to nothin'. Let her go," Elliot repeated, hoping that the softening of his tone would soften Arthur's resolve in return.

"I can't do that Elliot. Now that I've had Guinevere in my life, I can't just kick her out. I'm not perfect, okay? You're right on that. But Guinevere and I are committed to one another. So if you wanna go on, and make things worse by tellin' your father…then you go do that. That'll be on you."

Elliot shook his head, laughing cynically. "And Gwen, what do you have to say? Are you gonna pick me and Pop, or this cracker?"

"Don't make me do that, Elliot," Gwen narrowed her eyes.

"Is that really a hard decision? Gwen, are you serious right now?"

Gwen looked down at her hands, as the two men waited for her response with baited breath. "Elliot, you don't understand. I love you and Daddy; y'all mean the world to me. But I want to _be _with Arthur, and not just in the short-term."

Elliot's lip curled. "Gwen, don't say that. Don't say things you don't mean."

"But it's true! I can't help that he's white, just like I can't help that we're poor. And if you can't see past that Elliot, if you can't see that I'm happy with Arthur….then I have nothing left to say to you; nothing will change your mind."

Elliot soaked up his sister's words, realizing that he had none of his own left; he was utterly speechless. His view of his sister had been turned entirely upside down, all by some man who had been a complete stranger, a figure of town folklore, until that night. And there was nothing he could do about it. Elliot looked at the two lovebirds, and he could feel his stomach begin to physically knot. He had to get out of that room before he literally knocked some sense into Gwen, and got Arthur out of the picture his _way_.

Yet, he opted against it, realizing that whatever he had to say would only harden their hearts further. He had done his best, and that's what he'd tell his father: that he had tried to save Gwen from ruin. He finally turned, leaving his sister's room, and slamming the front door behind him.

Gwen and Arthur stood silently; the sound of the loud and violent rain filling the room. Neither said anything until they heard the engine of Elliot's borrowed vehicle rev, then speed down the street.

Arthur stood next to Gwen, rubbing his forehead, as he contemplated which words would be appropriate for this situation. But his mind drew blanks. "Guinevere, where are you going?"Arthur asked alarmed, as he watched Gwen walk out of the room silently and quickly. He followed her, only to have the bathroom door shut in his face, followed by Gwen's weight sliding against the door to the ground on the opposite side.

"Oh Guinevere, I'm so sorry," Arthur began, resting his forehead against the door.

"Arthur, I need some time to think."

"Can I come in?" Arthur strained his hears, listening to the sniffles Gwen was trying to hide in vain.

"No, you can't. I want to be alone right now. Could you j-j-just go?"

Arthur sighed, he too sitting on the ground, resting his back on the white wooden door. "Before I do Gwen, I just want to let you know, that what your brother said about me wasn't true." Arthur thought on his words. "Well, some of it was true. But the part where he said I was just usin' you? That's wrong."

"Okay."

"...Do you believe me?"

"Yes, I believe you Arthur!" Gwen said a little bit annoyed. "But right now, I have so many things to think about, and I just don't want you here right now. I'm sorry, but that's how I feel. Please just go!"

Arthur paused, before finally agreeing. "Okay, I'll leave. Just know that this isn't the end Guinevere. I'll be here for you still."

_Title Inspired by: "House of Glass" by Worship__e craned his _


	16. Chapter 16

_Hello lovely readers. So here is Chapter 16, a little shorter than usual because there were some scenes I needed to get in before 17 (my chapters have been getting really long anyway, so this isn't too bad)._

_Leave a comment, tell me what you thought about it, and add me to your Story Alert so you'll be the first to find out how Merlin's character takes on a drastic change in the next chapter…for good or ill? You'll have to wait and see ;)_

_P.S.: Dear __**Christina**__: yes; you officially win the Chapter 12'no prize' _

_YoureAnIllusion_

**Chapter 16: The Hope I Confide In**

"Guinevere, please…" Arthur mumbled. No response came; there was total silence besides the birds chirping outside near Arthur's bedroom window. "Gwen, please talk to me," Arthur pleaded. "Stop...don't."

"Arthur, c'mon."

"No…" Arthur groaned.

"_Arthur!"_

Arthur's closed eyelids opened quickly as he heard his name ringing through his ears. Awaking from his dream, he found himself sprawled atop his canopy bed with the sheets kicked aside, exposing his bare chest to the bright sun which was pouring through the window. He looked up into Stella's curious gaze, as she watched him silently from his bedside.

"You talk in your sleep now?"

Arthur groaned gutturally, as he rolled over, turning away from her.

"No, no, no," Stella corrected, nudging Arthur in his bare shoulder. "You gotta shake a leg; your classes start in an hour. I swear; you get lazier as you get older," Stella chided.

Arthur rolled onto his back to look at her, suppressing a glare, as Stella finally stopped prodding his flesh.

"Don't look at me like that," Stella warned, swatting Arthur's arm. "Up, up, up!"

"Okay, okay!" Arthur grumbled angrily, standing as he stretched his tight arms out behind his back. "I'm not going to classes today, Stella."

"Take that up with your father."

Arthur shook his head, walking to his desk; he had no plans telling Uther anything. Arthur plucked a cigarette from the full carton which was on his desk, placing it between his lips before he heard Stella clear her throat from the door way

"Smokes first thing in the morning, Arthur? I thought you quit, anyhow.

Arthur looked at Stella, before lighting it up. "I didn't quit; and what's a better way to start the day?" Arthur asked with a smile.

"Just brush your teeth before you come for breakfast." Stella walked to the door, before adding an afterthought. "Oh, Merlin's here, he already ate though, so you better hurry." Arthur listened to Stella's light footsteps make her way down the spiral stair case, saying to herself: "that boy sure can eat for bein' so skinny."

Arthur laughed, as he tossed his lighter back on the desk. He inhaled a large portion, letting it out slowly through his nose. He suddenly realized that Gwen would have to eventually clean his room, and he knew how she felt about smoking. He decided to move outside onto the balcony, where the sun had just finished rising, and illuminated the horizon with various shade of pink and blue. It was early October, and a slight chill was rolling through the Estate; yet Arthur with the fire in his lungs welcomed it, sitting in a chair. "Classes," he snorted to himself, flicking some ashes away. "Nope; not today, Stella."

Arthur wasn't really in the mood for engaging with anyone, and showing up for his studies would have been an immense waste of time, because he would only be able to focus on Gwen. Plus, with all the anger he had been suppressing, Arthur Pendragon was sure that if he appeared on campus, and laid eyes on Roger or Alex, he would finally pummel their worthless heads into the pavement, as he had been aching to do for weeks. Or maybe he'd grab Vivian by her dainty shoulders, and tell the poor girl to stop giving him longing looks in class, and making a greater number of appearances at his home. Yes…he liked that idea. Or…perhaps he could march down the garage where Elliot and Tom worked, and knock Elliot around for ruining the best Arthur had ever had; yes, that one was most the appealing.

Yet, Arthur knew that the only thing that would succeed in doing was land him in a jail cell, and then _his_ father too would be in on his little secret. Having to deal with one angry father and one confused girlfriend was enough. Arthur wasn't even sure if he could still call Gwen his girlfriend or not. After Saturday night, he wasn't sure where their relationship stood. She practically begged him to leave, admitting that she didn't want to be around him. But wouldn't Arthur have done the same? He wasn't so sure, and that's what scared him.

Arthur was drawn out of his thoughts by a tapping against his glass sliding door, and he turned to find a grinning Merlin on the other side. Arthur waved his friend over, inviting him to sit with him.

"You're not dressed yet?" Merlin asked, looking at his wrist watch.

Arthur shook his head, closing his eyes. "I'm not goin' today," he said simply.

Merlin waved his hand to divert Arthur's cloud of smoke, sitting in a reclining chair as he watched his friend. "What's eating you? Did something happen?"

Arthur chuckled robustly. "Shit, did _something _happen."

Merlin waited for an explanation, but received one. "Are you gonna tell me?"

"Okay, you know that necklace I bought for Guinevere?"

"Yeah."

"Well, Saturday was her birthday, and I figured that I oughta go to house and surprise her, especially because her family was gone."

"Did one of her neighbors see you? Arthur, how could you be so careless?" Merlin asked, his pitch rising.

"No; even better. Gwen and I were…" Arthur thought of the right words. "Let's just say we were in a compromising position…on her bed, when her brother comes bursting in."

Merlin slapped his face, hanging his head. "You're serious?"

"Yeah. Long story short: there sure was a lot of whoopin' and hollerin' on his part."" Arthur pointed to the bruise above his lip. "That's how I got this."

Merlin leaned over to get a better look. "Well, what did he say?"

"That Guinevere was a dumb tramp for sleeping with me—"

"Hey! Slow your role Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed, waving his pale hands. "Y'all are havin' sex now?"

Arthur exhaled, as he rolled his eyes. "Merlin, calm down," Arthur said nonchalantly. "In case you haven't realized; Guinevere's like the biggest virgin since Mary. Her brother thinks we are though, so that sure didn't make explaining things any easier."

Merlin let out a sigh of relief, as he leant back into his chair. "Sorry, go on."

Arthur shrugged, as he put his cigarette out on the cement. "He basically called me a sex-obsessed predator, who was just gettin' his kicks in with a colored." Arthur looked at Merlin's wide eyes. "I can't blame him for thinking that though… But now he swore that he was gonna tell his father as soon as possible."

"Oh no…"

"He had a nice spiel 'bout how I couldn't protect Guinevere, even if I wanted to, and that I should just leave her while I still could."

"And is that what you're fixin' to do?"

Arthur lifted his arms, resting his palms behind his head. "I can't say that it hasn't crossed my mind; but any rational person would have second thoughts at this situation. It's just, I know we make each other happy, but I wonder; is that enough? I mean, though her brother was a dick, he did have some points. I mean…look at Mary Tate, and Ray Neely!"

"A sad irony," Merlin confirmed.

"I mean, shit! I _knew_ Mary, she would come over for private dinners, for cryin' out loud! And then we find out that she's been sneakin' 'round with a poor colored man, who happens to live across the street from Gwen? It's like God is up there, playin' one big cosmic joke on me, Merlin. Because I don't know what I can do to make this better. Gwen's a smart girl; she'll put two and two together. First," Arthur began, lifting an index finger, "she'll finally see that I'm some rich white kid, who can shower her with gifts, but can't promise her anything _concrete_. Then after that, she'll look at me, and think 'why the hell did I get in with this creep in the first place?' On Saturday, she finally asked me about all of the girls I've been with, and she was shocked. It might even be safe to say terrified, and maybe even disgusted." Arthur laughed cynically. "Hell, I'd leave me too!" Arthur nearly yelled, throwing up his arms in anger. "It seems that I can't do anything right."

Merlin shook his head vigorously. "Arthur, Gwen wouldn't do that."

"You weren't there when she locked herself into her bathroom, and begged me to leave. I wish it wasn't so, but I don't see how Gwen could come back to me. And now that her father knows; it'll crush her. She'll never look at me in the same way. Everything's just fucked."

"Arthur, stop talkin' like that, okay? Every couple hits speed bumps, y'all are no different."

"No Merlin, that's the thing; this is different. And these itty bitty speed bumps are nothin' compared to what we'll have to deal with in the future."

"So I guess the question is: do you love Guinevere more than you fear the consequences?" Merlin paused, waiting for a response, but there was only silence. "We both know the answer. Sure, some of the odds are stacked against you, but what you have with Gwen is too good to give up, in my opinion at least."

Arthur smiled a little.

"I must add, that being with Gwen has made you into a more caring and loveable person."

Arthur shrugged. "I can't argue with that."

"And Arthur, the way I see you look at her, you can tell that you're crazy 'bout her. Time after time you've stuck your neck out for her, proving that you truly do care about her. But if Gwen looks at that, looks at all the tender affection you have towards her, and leaves that?" Merlin let out a whistle, shaking his head. "Then she's a loon, and maybe you two shouldn't be together after all."

"I don't know Merlin; you didn't hear her on Saturday. Maybe this is just too overwhelming for her. The prospect of alienating her family to be with someone who is their enemy, and giving her loyalty to him, even though he's proven time and time again that he can't be faithful to anyone."

Merlin sighed. "Guinevere's a colored; that's old news. Okay, you knew that from the beginning, you knew that eventually this would happen from the get-go, and so did she. But you two aren't defined by the shade of your skin. You'll have to decide eventually how far you're willing to go for her. And if you're willing to leave everything you know, everything she loves, just so you two can be in peace." Merlin looked at Arthur, who was obviously listening, but his gaze fixed on the horizon.

"For Guinevere; I would. With her, I think I could face anything." Arthur looked at Merlin who smiled contently. Arthur wouldn't be satisfied until he saw Gwen again, and she told him that everything was going to be alright.

* * *

><p>Gwen closed her eyes almost to the brink of pain, letting the hot water continue to fall to her skin, gently caressing her sore muscles. She did realize however that eventually she'd have to step out of her steamy abode and face the day. It was nearly seven, and in less than hour, Alice would be outside of her home, honking the neighborhood down until Gwen arrived in her car, out of breath from the rush.<p>

With a large sigh, Gwen finally reached over, turning the knob to the right, and ceasing the steady flow of hot water. She stood in the shower for a few moments, debating whether or not she could afford just another minute or two of relief. She quickly decided against it, reaching for her towel, and stepping onto the cold tile.

Gwen hastily prepared for work, putting on her black uniform dress which she had ironed before Arthur had made his surprise visit; the visit which had inadvertently ruined her entire weekend…along with many other things. Though Gwen could have placed the blame on Arthur, and Elliot especially, she held herself mainly at fault. For, it was she who did not send Arthur away the moment she saw him drenched in her backyard. Then, he had stayed for_ hours_ and it was Gwen's mistake that she had never entertained the possibility of total disaster. But then again, Guinevere reminded herself that she was only human. Her emotions, her feelings, her desires for Arthur were not of her own accord.

Did Elliot really thinkthat _this _was something that she would have chosen? To have to sneak around with someone she cared about, because if anyone found out, it would create scandal? Did Elliot really think that after she had watched the homes of two of her friend's burn to the ground that she didn't think of the safety of her own family? Hadn't he realized that she had never even looked at a white man twice before Arthur? This definitely wasn't something she searched for; it just happened.

Gwen wished that her brother had had the chance to actually know the _real_ Arthur before he found out about their relationship. Then he would see all of the courage, tenderness, humor, and honor which she found in Arthur. The Arthur Pendragon of the town rumors was a far cry from the gentleman whom she had grown to admire, and fall head over heels for. If Elliot had only taken a moment to try and really look at Arthur, then he would have realized that he was not the threat whom he had pegged him for. But instead, Elliot was consumed by his poisonous preconceived notions, which made him incapable of removing his blinders, and realizing that this was something which Gwen wanted because it was good, _Arthur_ was good.

Yet, Gwen knew that there would come a time when she would be forced to choose between her family and her boyfriend; but she never thought that it would be so soon. Gwen plopped onto her bed, covering her face with her hands in defeat for the hundredth time since Saturday. She could hardly entertain the thought of having to face her father. The disappointment, disgust, anger; she wouldn't be able to handle it all, she'd unravel completely.

"Oh, Lord. If there's any other way…I don't want to disappoint Daddy, or make him and Elliot suffer because of my actions. Yet…I love Arthur too much, and letting go of him would be just as bad. So, you see the dilemma I'm in? Please, I'm begging for some sort of sign, because I don't know what to do. I don't want to be selfish, and forsake the safety of family because of my feelings towards Arthur. Yet, I know that I was made for Arthur, and that's why I find it so hard to understand why there are so many obstacles. A sign, somethin' small is all I—" Then she heard it; the sound she had been dreading for nearly two days…they were home.

Guinevere sat up, listening to make sure that her ears weren't playing tricks on her. But she couldn't deny it, as she heard her front door open and close quickly, followed by Elliot calling from the entrance:

"We're home."

Gwen inhaled sharply, and her heart began to beat so fast, it threatened to pound a hole in her chest. This was it; this was the dreaded time of reckoning. She heard low murmurs between her father and brother in the kitchen, and she debated whether or not she should arise and greet them.

"Is she home? Maybe she left for work already."

Gwen heard Tom ask her brother, as the thump of their duffle bags hitting the ground traveled throughout the house, into Gwen's open room. She strained her ears, trying to see if she could pick up her father's tone, but she caught nothing. After a deep breath, Gwen was finally able to muster an audible "I'm here!"

Gwen wondered whether she should get up from her bed, but she couldn't stop her legs from shaking long enough to do so. It was too late anyway, for she looked up to find Tom and Elliot standing together in the doorway.

They both stood in the door way, and silence hung over the small room. Gwen tried to gage the emotions of her family, but she was drawing blanks. She watched Elliot lean on the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, and Tom tilted his head to the side.

"Well…aint you got to say somethin'?" He asked plainly.

Gwen felt a lump in her throat. "I'm…I—"

Tom walked to his daughter, enveloping her in a secure hug.

Gwen could feel her muscles seizing as her father's strong arms wrapped around her, and she tried to comprehend what exactly Tom was doing; he was supposed to be yelling at her, not embracing her. Gwen turned her narrowed eyes to Elliot, who watched from the door, his mouth in a straight line. felt her father pull away, holding her by the shoulders affectionately, sporting a large smile.

"So, how was it? How'd it feel to be the queen of the castle for two days?"

Gwen's eyes widened in total bewilderment as she looked to her silent brother again, in total astonishment. At this point, she was unable to formulate a sentence which would be relatively coherent. So she looked to her father, waiting for his next words so she could mimic his tone.

"So…?" Tom asked, resting a hand on his hip, tilting his head again to look at Gwen. "You aint sick, are you baby?"

Gwen shook her head to recover, and she tried to put on a façade of normalcy. "It was great Daddy, but I'm happy the house isn't empty anymore." Gwen picked up an almost inaudible grunt from Elliot, who had stood straight, his hands still over his chest.

"That's swell; I'm happy to see that you're in one piece at least."

Gwen nervously pushed some hair behind her ears. "How was your course?"

"Oh boy, Gwen! It was great, I won't bore you with automotive talk, though. But, I have to say, that my back was achin' somethin' fierce!" Tom pointed an index finger toward his mute son. "This bonehead here swore that he packed my medicine, but of course, he actually forgot; that's why he came back."

Gwen shot Elliot a confused look. "I know, I—"

"I got in pretty late Pop. When I got home, Gwen was sleeping, remember?" Elliot said raising his chin suggestively towards Gwen.

Gwen blinked a couple of times. "Yes, that's right. I just heard him leave on his way out."

Tom rubbed his back, smiling at his beautiful daughter. "Elliot and I have to go to the garage in about two hours, I think I'm gonna go take a shower."

Gwen nodded silently, as she watched her father leave, rubbing the small of his back. Elliot moved from his father's path, his dark eyes following him down the hallway to his bed room, waiting for him to close the door. He turned to his sister, finally unfolding his arms, yet maintaining his silence.

Gwen brushed past him, closing her door quickly. She looked up at her older brother, at a complete loss for words. Should she thank him? "Elliot…you didn't tell him?" Was all she could produce?

Elliot shook his head, moving away from the closed door. "I'm mad as hell, Gwen, make no mistake 'bout that. But I aint heartless; I couldn't bring myself to tell him. So, are you happy?" Elliot confessed bitterly moving towards the window.

Gwen sighed heavily, as the urge to jump and dance for joy engulfed her, but she managed to remain calm, but she couldn't help the smile which dominated his features. "Thank you Elliot, you don't know what that means to me."

Elliot turned to his sister. "Don't be thankin' me yet, Gwen. My mind still isn't completely made up, and I sure as hell don't like this thing you got goin' on. But, I didn't tell Pop because…some of the things you said to me really went to my core. Now, hear me well when I say I don't trust that white boy, and if I ever got the chance, I think I might kill him."

"But you still didn't tell Daddy…" Gwen reminded him.

"You're little…friend—"

"Arthur?"

"Arthur," Elliot began, as if the name left a bad taste in his mouth. "He was right; telling Pop _now _would only make things worse. And I don't have the heart to bring his world crashing down. So if you wanna tell him; that's all you, Gwen. But, if Arthur does something I don't like, if I feel like you're in danger; I'm singin' like a canary," Elliot said without blinking. He looked at his sister who only nodded.

"I know this isn't easy for you."

Elliot snorted. "That's an understatement."

"But, I want to say thank you Elliot. I know you're not okay with it—"

"I'll never be okay with it," Elliot corrected.

"Okay, but thanks for giving us a chance."

"I may be your older brother, but I can't run your life for you. I don't trust him completely, and I think his intentions are completely pure. How do you know that he aint fixin' to run to his buddies, and brag about the things that he's done with you? We all know what men like him think of our women…"

Gwen rolled his eyes, perhaps Elliot needed a stroll down memory lane. "Remember the day when those three goons tore my book apart, and one of them nearly hit me?"

"Of course I remember. I nearly marched down to the police station."

"Well, it was Arthur who saved me. It was he who stood up for me even though then I was just some maid in his house. He even bought me a new book to show his goodwill," Gwen explained.

"That don't mean nothin'," Elliot snorted.

"Or what about last month, when he defied his father, and he came to our neighborhood when he heard about the fires? He was outraged, and he was ready to go to the police to protect _us_. It was only because I begged him not to that he didn't go."

Elliot took a step back, as his eyebrows rose. "Huh?"

"He's a good person, Elliot. White or not, that doesn't change the fact that time and time again he has been there for me. And if he only wanted me for one reason like you assume, then he would've been gone a long time ago. It's obvious that he cares for me, and I feel the same." Gwen watched Elliot nod slightly, the frown on his face slowly dissolving. "And for the last time; we're not sleeping together. So even if he did have a bunch of friends, which he doesn't, then there'd be nothin' to brag 'bout."

Elliot sighed. "I hear ya Gwen, you're just gonna have to give me some time with this one."

Gwen nodded in understanding.

"And I'm really sorry that I called you all of those names. I didn't mean it, you're not stupid, and I know you're not a whore."

"You just wanted to protect me."

"But this doesn't mean I aint keepin' my eye on that white boy," Elliot warned.

"I can live with that."

* * *

><p>Vivian waved over the waiter who was in a dark suit, smiling brightly as he made his way to her and Morgana's table.<p>

"Is everything alright, ma'am? Is the food to your liking?"

"Oh, it's wonderful," Morgana chimed in, looking at her plate of pesto ravioli.

"Yes, it's delightful," Vivian agreed. "But could we have some more bread please?" Vivian asked, holding up the half-full bread basket.

"Yes ma'am," he said with a quick nod.

"Oh, and could I have some more ginger ale, as well?"

"Of course," the waiter said, leaving the two women moments later.

Morgana looked at Vivian with a broad smile. "He's a cutie, isn't he?"

Vivian looked at the waiter as he disappeared behind kitchen doors, giving Morgana a small shrug. "He does have pretty eyes," Vivian said with a shrug.

"But not like Arthur?" Morgana asked.

Vivian blushed. "They're close but, not quite."

Morgana rested her elbows on the table, watching Vivian twirl some pasta around her fork idly.

"So Morgana, I've been doin' some thinkin'…"

"About what?"

"Arthur."

"Figures," Morgana said with a smile.

"Well, about him and this mystery girl. It's all I've been able to think about!"

Morgana suppressed her joy that Vivian was finally able to talk about Arthur some more. Morgana had feared that if she was the one to bring up the matter each time, then her intentions would soon be questioned; she couldn't have her eagerness unravel months of waiting and calculating. "Anything new, then?"

Vivian looked down thoughtfully at the white linen which covered the table. "I still can't wrap my mind around the entire jewelry store scenario."

"Ah, the expensive necklace?" Morgana sighed. "If it's as dazzling as you describe, I reckon it'll be hard to miss; it'll only be a matter of time before the girl shows up. So, this is good news if you really think about it."

"Well, I'm not wastin' any time—" Vivian paused as the handsome waiter returned with the bread, and Vivian's newly refilled drink. She nodded as a sign of gratitude, waiting for him to leave before addressing Morgana once again. "I'm not fixin' to sit here, and wait for the girl to come to me!" Vivian squealed, as if the thought was totally ludicrous. "By golly, I'm gonna find her. I can say with complete confidence though that it's not Kate or Mildred—"

"Arthur wouldn't waste that kind of money on them; I told you not to bother with those two." _Is this all that she's come up with? After nearly two weeks! Sure Arthur just bought the necklace…but there've been other hints, haven't there?_

"I do declare, on everything that's good in this world: if I ever saw that necklace again, I'd recognize it in a hot second."

"I doubt you'll ever see it," Morgana began honestly. But at least you were able to get such a good look at it in the store; very nice move."

"It was a stroke of genius, I tell ya," Vivian declared happily. "That necklace has been etched into my memory. But Morgana, I've looked at every girl, even the most outrageous ones who Arthur wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole; but I've found nothin'. Absolutely nothin'." Vivian rolled her eyes, as she thought of the disappointment and relief she felt each time she went through her mental list of women, and checked them off, knowing that they weren't 'the one'. She alarmed Morgana with a high-pitched laugh. "I swear it Morgana, I'm beginnin' to think that this girl's a hunchback, or a colored or somethin' else that's terrible!"

Morgana cut her light eyes. "…Or somethin'." She responded cryptically. "But, I don't think Arthur's sunk so low whereas he'd take up with a colored."

Vivian shook her head, as she twirled her pasta around her fork. "I tell ya: with all the mixin' up that's going on now between Negroes and whites; I've seen coloreds as white as my mama!" Vivian set her glass down. "Who knows: maybe Arthur's exhausted all the good white women and he's moved on to niggers." Vivian mostly joked, displaying a playful smile.

"Do you really think so?"

"Briefly, I entertained the notion. But it's ridiculous; I know Arthur _much _better than that. He's from a good family, and has been raised better," Vivian tried to convince herself, but Morgana noticed that the words seemed to be a bit empty. "No, it's a white girl, I'm sure. But she must be low class…that's why no one knows who she is!" Vivian declared a little too loudly, as if she had solved the world's toughest riddle.

Morgana would have thought the same things had she not know the truth. If only Vivian knew just how close she was…but Morgana couldn't spill the beans. But she didn't know how much longer she could pretend to be totally ignorant. Keeping up the act was a draining activity on all fronts. Maintaining a two-sided friendship with Gwen was the most taxing, however. Each time she spoke with the maid, Morgana had to remember how she _used_ to feel about her, and direct those memories into actions which she hoped seemed normal. With Arthur, she could hardly carry on an ordinary conversation with him. Each time she looked at him; whether it was in school or at the dinner table, she could think of how stupid and selfish he was. Every time she heard Arthur speak with Uther, and tell him his plans, she always wondered how much of it was a lie, and how involved Gwen was. And with Vivian, Morgana had to be careful that she didn't accidently slip up, and divulge a detail which she wasn't supposed to know.

"Well, whoever she is, I'd say Arthur's doin' a damn good job of hiding her," Morgana responded, tossing her long hair over her shoulder with a sigh.

"I'd say I agree. But don't worry Morgana, we'll find her."

Morgana held up her glass in a mock toast. "Damn right we will."

Vivian clinked her glass with Morgana's, before she looked away laughing. "I don't wanna dwell on this…"

"Speak what's on your mind."

"Hypothetically," Vivian began, twiddling her thumbs. "What if Arthur _was _with a colored broad? What would happen then?"

Morgana had no delay in responding, for she had thought on the outcomes repeatedly; she had even had dreams about it. "Uncle would probably kill him…literally, maybe with his bare hands. And then I'd get the company! " Morgana joked.

Vivian shook her head, as if a series of chills had run up her thin body. "Just the thought makes me sick. Let's not talk about colored girls anymore."

Morgana took the not so subtle hint, and diverted the subject to the Fall Ball next week.

* * *

><p>Gwen sang quietly, carrying a full basket of laundry past the kitchen before she heard Stella call out her name.<p>

"Hey, Gwen, is that you?" Stella called out. She saw the girl stop in her tracks. "Come here, would ya?"

"Yes'm?" Gwen asked, walking to her superior.

Stella kneaded some dough, on the marble counter which was sprinkled with flour. "You look very pretty today," she noted.

"Why, thank you," Gwen said blushing with a smile.

"Mhmm. Oh, I think Arthur said he was lookin' for you."

"He asked for me?" Gwen asked, obviously surprised.

Stella diverted her gaze, remembering this morning, and the words Arthur had mumbled in his sleep. "Sort of..."

"Alright, thank you Miss Stella, I'll be down soon, to help fix supper."

"Take your time, I'll be fine, honey."

Gwen left the kitchen, humming joyously all the way to Arthur's room, where she heard his shower turn off only minutes before. She knocked on the thick door, waiting for Arthur's invitation to enter. Gwen opened the door moments later, bursting with excitement that she would finally be able to give Arthur the good news.

She walked into his gargantuan bedroom, which smelt of the aftershave which she loved so much, and her skin tingled at the steam which emanated from his bathroom door which was open. "Arthur?"

"Guinevere?" Arthur asked from the bathroom. Moments later, Arthur walked into his bedroom, his wet hair slicked back, and his skin still glistening slightly. He had on a pair of jeans, but no shirt, for he had just finished shaving. He watched Gwen carefully, trying to gage her mood.

"Arthur, I have great news!" Gwen squealed, running to Arthur, nearly knocking the wind out of him from the sudden impact. He wrapped his arms around Gwen's waist, surprised that she was in such high spirits.

"What, did you win the lottery or somethin'?"

"No, even better!" She exclaimed nearly out of breath. "Elliot and Daddy came home today. Elliot decided not to tell him!"

"What!" Arthur asked, a series of relieved laughs escaped his lips.

Gwen nodded, smiling at Arthur's bright blue eyes. "He said he didn't have the heart to, and that he trusted me. But, he gave you a fair warning that if you messed up; he'd…take action."

Arthur kissed Gwen quickly, unsure of how else to express himself. "So everyting's okay? We're okay?"

"Yes, I think so!" Gwen said running a hand through his wet hair. "We don't have to worry now…well, not about that atleast."

"I thought Elliot had changed your mind about me."

"No, of course not," Gwen assured Arthur, looking up at him.

"I just thought that after you locked yourself in the bathroom, that you had finally come to your senses," Arthur admitted.

"Come to my senses? Arthur, what do you mean?"

Arthur let go of Gwen, walking to his closet where he pulled out a shirt, slipping it on. "I thought you figured that I wasn't worth the trouble."

Gwen's eyebrows came together. "I could never think that, Arthur."

Arthur turned to Gwen, not wanting to sound too pathetic. "Promise that you won't be angry after I say this?"

Gwen walked towards Arthur, as she nodded. "I promise. You can say anything to me Arthur."

"I was driving home that night, and I was thinking that maybe tellin' you 'bout my past was a mistake?"

"I would've found out eventually, and I told you; that doesn't matter to me Arthur. Don't you believe me?"

"I do, you have a good and forgiving heart. But you always see the best in people, and sometimes I think that you think I'm this perfect knight in shining armor, and I'm just fixin' to disappoint you."

Gwen's dark eyes saddened, as she heard how inadequate Arthur thought he was. "Arthur, Arthur, Arthur," she whispered, stroking his arm. "Don't say that ever again, okay? Because it's absolutely ridiculous. Don't think that you have to be perfect for me I'm not as fragile as I seem. I love your little imperfections, because their part of you."

Arthur smiled. "Gwen, you're too good to me," Arthur confessed, twirling a dark curl around his finger.

A loud knocking came from Arthur's door, startling he and Gwen. "Who is it?" He asked with suspicion.

"Arthur, can I come in?" Morgana asked from the other side

"No!" Arthur said quickly, before his cousin would have the chance to open the door. He looked down at Gwen, before answering Morgana. "I'm getting dressed. Do you need something?"

"...I was just lettin' you know that Merlin's downstairs. I'll be there too."

"Okay, thanks!"

"I should go, Arthur," Gwen whispered.

"No, Merlin and them can wait a while," Arthur said holding Gwen again, bringing her as close as he could. Her giggles as he lovingly explored her neck made Arthur forget about Merlin pretty quickly.

_Title Inspired by: "The Hope I Confide In" by A Bullet for Pretty Boy_


	17. Chapter 17

_I am very excited for this chapter! _

_Comment, and let me know how you feel after reading. A lot happened, so I'm curious to see what you think of the new developments. _

_Add me to Story Alert, so you'll be the first to see how this chapter's events spill over into 18. Happy reading!_

_Sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors; I had to proof quickly._

_YoureAnIllusion_

**Chapter 17: I'm Not Here for Rage, I'm Here for Revenge**

_The dress was absolutely astonishing. The sunlight which was pouring in from the decadent stained glass windows illuminated the dress even further, as the bride walked down the carpeted aisle. A long white train flowed behind her, with a sheer veil covering her face from clear view; as always. Father Soma stood before the altar, wearing his full vestments and a broad smile on his thin lips, as he (and the rest of the church) watched to beautiful bride walk down the aisle. To his right stood the jittery groom, the nervous tapping of his foot catching the young priest's attention. _

"_Be still Arthur; just relax," the priest encouraged, resting his hand on the young man's shoulder._

_The groom self-consciously ran a hand through his hair which was neatly brushed to the side. Anxiously, he watched his bride-to-be walk down the aisle with her proud father in tow. The mystery father walked to the front of the altar, presenting his beautiful yet unknown daughter to his son-in-law to be, giving Arthur a steady handshake before moving to sit next to another man in the front pew. Uther sat on the opposite aisle of the church, in his finest suit, watching his son with extreme joy and content._

_The rest of the church was filled with faces Morgana recognized: Stella, Merlin, Leon…and Vivian? What was she doing here? Morgana looked closer, only to find the same dopey grin on Vivian's face that the rest of the wedding's guests were wearing. Didn't the dumb girl realize that Arthur was obviously marrying someone else…someone who _wasn't_ her? But wait…if Vivian wasn't the faceless bride, who was it?_

"_Arthur Lewis Pendragon: do you take Guinevere Louise Gibson to be your wife? Do you promise to be true to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and honor her all the days of your life?"_

"_I do," Arthur nearly sang, rubbing Gwen's hand softly._

_Gwen's dark eyes welled with tears. Her—_

Morgana shot up into a sitting position, resting her aching back against her large headboard. She felt her chest heaving rapidly in an attempt to supply air to her lungs, as she felt beads of sweat begin to accumulate on her forehead.

Every night for the past week, she had the same dream. It would always begin with the wedding procession, and the bride walking down the aisle to where Arthur stood, but she would never see the bride's face. Before her identity could be revealed, Morgana would wake up, and find it to be morning, or her dream would morph into another which was as equally bizarre. Yet tonight, after a week of the same images and sounds, Morgana had confirmed the woman's identity: she had seen Guinevere Gibson behind the sheer veil as clear as day.

Morgana threw off her covers in frustration, well aware that any hopes of attaining any sleep were completely shattered. She picked up a hair tie which was on her bedside table, putting her long locks up as she slipped on her slippers. It was hardly past two a.m., and the house was completely silent, making the creek of the stairs from Morgana's weight sound especially loud. Quietly, she tiptoed to the dark kitchen, where she took down a mug and filled it with water from the tap. As she turned around, a startled yelp escaped as she nearly ran into Arthur.

"Golly," Morgana gasped, her left hand flying to her chest. "Why are you sneakin' up on me like that!"

"What the hell are you doing down here?" He asked, tilting his head in confusion, his blonde locks sticking up in every direction.

Morgana rolled her eyes, clutching tightly onto her mug, looking at Arthur's red robe and bare feet. "I had a bad dream," she said leaning against the counter, watching Arthur bend to take the orange juice from the fridge. "Why are you awake? The Fall Ball is tomorrow…I mean today," Morgana corrected herself

Arthur drank the juice straight from the carton, sending shivers up Morgana's spine. "I woke up and I was thirsty." Arthur wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "So, what was your dream about?"

Morgana looked at the moon out of the kitchen window, wondering how much she should divulge to her cousin. "A wedding."

"A wedding? Who was getting hitched?"

"You," Morgana said simply, turning to watch her cousin's reaction.

Arthur put the juice back in the fridge as he laughed heartily. "Well who was the lucky girl then? Don't say it was Vivian…"Arthur warned, pointing.

Morgana couldn't help but smile at Arthur's after thought. "I'm not sure, I didn't see her face," Morgana explained, clearing her throat.

"Hmm…cryptic. I bet it was a famous movie star, or something.

Morgana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, keep dreaming Arthur."

"Do you think it meant anything?"

Morgana dumped her water in the sink, setting the mug on the counter. "Don't be superstitious; it was just a silly dream; they happen all the time. Like any woman would want to marry you," she teased, turning her back to Arthur, making her way to leave the dark room.

"Hey! You'd be surprised!" Arthur whispered harshly towards Morgana.

"Yup, I'm sure I would," Morgana responded so quietly, that the remark escaped Arthur's ears.

* * *

><p>Stella could feel an intense migraine coming on, as countless bodies moved past her, each completing their own task to help prepare the household for Uther's famous annual event. Stella cringed as she watched a servant fumble around with a box of champagne glasses, setting them down in a corner.<p>

"No, no, no! Are you deaf, boy?" The head maids snapped at a servant, who cowered in her presence as she approached him. "Them glasses go over there!" Stella pointed, her eyes narrowing in frustration as she watched the young man scurry in the other direction. Her gaze focused onto Alice on her left, who was setting a decorative tablecloth on one of the many round tables set in the large dining room. Stella huffed, as she grabbed a corner of the tablecloth, evening it out. "Did God give you crooked fingers, girl?" She gave Alice a look which said she better occupy herself somewhere else, just as the sound of shattering glass rang throughout the bustling room. Stella cringed, closing her eyes, and reminding herself that patience was a virtue, and murder a sin.

Honestly, she should have been accustomed to the chaos which ensued the day of the Fall Ball, for the main duties had fallen to her for nearly ten years, now. Stella watched Gwen approach her, carrying a medium sized cardboard box, a smile gracing her face as usual.

"Oh, please gimme some good news, sugar," Stella pleaded, running a hand through her short hair as she watched a clumsy servant clean up the mess he had made on the other side of the room.

"Yes'm. The band just called, and they'll be here within the hour." Stella looked at her watch: it was only nearly noon; they wear meant to have arrived an hour ago.

Gwen set the box next to her feet, taking a deep breath. "Miss Marge just cleaned up the bar, and is helping the bartender order some of the drinks."

Stella sighed in relief. "What about the kitchen? I'd check myself, but I'm bein' pulled in a thousand different directions."

Gwen nodded. "The caterers are workin' hard; the kitchen smells like Heaven!" Gwen said happily.

"All right. Okay not everythin' is fallin' apart," Stella exhaled, rubbing her temples.

"You're doin' a swell job running everything, Miss Stella. I'm sure everything will work out tonight."

"Thanks sugar, I just worry too much. Oh, excuse me," Stella began as she brushed past the maid towards Arthur who stood watching the two in the doorway. "Arthur, what are you doing down here? Did you go pick up your tuxedo?"

Arthur gave Gwen a quick smile over Stella's shoulder, before addressing her question. "Yes, I just came back."

Stella watched Arthur's blue eyes, which were fixed on something behind her. She snapped impatiently. "Is there a reason you're hangin' 'round here then?"

"Uhh…no."

Stella watched Arthur skeptically for a few moments, a single brow raising as she gave him a onceover. She finally walked past Arthur, walking to oversee other preparations which were occurring in the foyer.

Arthur turned his head slightly to make sure that Stella was completely out of view, before making eye contact with Gwen once again. She stood to his far right, arranging utensils on a table. "See me later," he mouthed, pointing to his chest.

Gwen looked around to see if anyone had caught Arthur's gesture before quickly nodding in affirmation.

* * *

><p>Uther straightened his black silk bow-tie, pacing before the steps impatiently as he watched his niece walk down the steps. "Ah, these kids. Whatever happened to being prompt?" The patriarch grumbled to himself, shaking his head, as he called up the stairs for the third and final time. "Morgana! Arthur! Get down here this instant! It's almost time!"<p>

Morgana came down the steps as quickly as she could, her long gown restricting her movement. Gwen had just finished fixing her hair, placing her long dark locks in an elegant up do, with a curl remaining free on each side. She had on a matching set of ruby earrings, necklace, and and bracelet which matched her deep red gown.

"Ah, Morgana, you look beautiful," Uther commented, most of his frustration quickly dissipating as he laid eyes on his beautiful niece.

"You're looking very handsome yourself, Uncle. Trying to impress any ladies tonight?" Morgana quipped with her smile, as her uncle took her gently by the hand, twirling her around.

"Oh no, no; I'm afraid night Morgana." Uther pulled down his jacket, looking up the stairs again. "Where the hell is your cousin?"

Morgana shrugged indifferently.

Uther scoffed, looking at his watch. "Is he a child? Do I have to go fetch him?"

Morgana resisted rolling her eyes. "You know, it's not like he's in Siberia or anythin'. I can go up the steps and get him," Morgana pointed out.

"It's the principle of the thing Morgana," Uther scoffed, shaking his head.

Morgana decided not to argue, looking down at her manicured nails instead.

"Oh, here's the prince!" Uther exclaimed sarcastically a few moments later, as his tardy son came jogging down the stairs. "How nice of you to finally come downstairs."

"What; am I late?" He asked, still tucking his crisp white shirt into his pants.

"At least you look presentable," Uther commented, running a hand through his short gray hair. "Alright, I know we do this every year—" He paused to let Arthur and Morgana's groans pass. "But it never hurts to refresh our memories. Now, you two are representing the Pendragon family, and our business tonight. You will conduct yourselves like the proper gentleman or lady I have raised you to be. Drinks will remain at a minimum…" Uther turned his gaze accusingly at Arthur, who held up his hands in defense. "You will socialize with the multitudes; none of these little cliques I see all too often. And you will participate in each event, and join me for the evening toast as we do each year. Is everything clear?"

Arthur and Morgana nodded their heads in unison; both had heard the same speech (or a slight variation of it) each year.

Uther rubbed his hands together in joy. "I can tell this year is going to be special. The first cars should be arriving soon."

* * *

><p>Arthur rolled his head in a circle, as he felt his knees begin to ache, and his wrist grow numb. He had lost count of the number of guests he had greeted twenty minutes ago, and now he was just waiting for the line to end. The governor and his three sons had just passed, and Arthur could finally begin to see the end of the line. Looking to his right, Arthur found Morgana giggling, a flirtatious smile on her face as she spoke with one of the governor's sons who decided to stay behind for a little chit chat. Arthur couldn't help but smile as he watched the interaction, seeing Morgana so shy and demure was a definite change. He decided to give them some privacy, returning his gaze to his left where Vivian and her parents were just beginning to file in. He couldn't help the slump of his shoulders, as he watched Vivian saunter in with her family.<p>

"Ah, Olaf, I'm happy to see that you and your family could make it." Uther greeted his old friend, forsaking the customary handshake for a familiar pat on the back.

"We wouldn't miss the Fall Ball for the world." Olaf replied happily.

Uther turned to Olaf's wife, kissing her hand. "Dorothy; you look extremely lovely this evening."

The woman nodded politely, moving to make way for her daughter.

"Vivian, you're a vision tonight, darling."

Vivian curtsied slightly, showing off her perfectly white teeth in a radiant smile. "Thank you." Vivian immediately turned her eyes to Arthur, giving him a quick onceover which didn't go unnoticed. "You're looking quite handsome tonight, Arthur," she complimented. Slowly, she moved her hand from her side, giving Arthur the opportunity to indulge in the customary kiss.

Arthur politely obliged, as he felt the watchful eye of his father from behind. He expected Vivian to move to his right, greet Morgana, and then follow the rest of the guests to the ballroom.

"So…the house looks beautiful," Vivian noted looking around, as if it was her first time in the mansion.

"Thank you, the staff has been working really hard." Arthur cleared his throat. "Well, we're pleased to have you; I hope you have a nice evening," Arthur quickly rushed out, turning his back to Vivian moments later.

"Actually, Arthur," Uther began, resting a heavy hand on his son's shoulder, "why don't you keep Vivian company for a while?"

Arthur couldn't help but narrow his eyes at his father's fake smile. "I thought it was our custom and duty to greet each guest personally?" Arthur recited Uther's famous Fall Ball mantra.

"Go ahead and enjoy yourself, not too many more should be arriving. Besides, I'm sure Morgana and I can handle it."

Arthur looked at his cousin, begging her with his blue eyes to help him in some way, but he only received an amused smirk. The next thing he knew, Arthur could feel Vivian's slender arm wrap around his own. She looked up at him, smiling; absolutely content. It didn't take much to make her happy.

"It seems that there's a large crowd this year," Vivian said the first thing that popped into her mind as Arthur led her to the ballroom which was on the other end of the home.

"There always is," Arthur replied curtly. Silence hung in the air for only a few moments, until Vivian filled the void with her voice.

"So how did Morgana like her gift?

"What gift?" he replied without thinking.

"…The sapphire necklace?"

Arthur stopped abruptly for a split second, before picking up in his step, as the noise of the ballroom became slightly audible. "Oh yeah, _that_ necklace?"

Vivian merely nodded.

"I decided to wait 'til Christmas."

"Oh…okay," Vivian said a little sadly.

Arthur glanced down quickly at his impromptu date, noting her change of tone. He shrugged it off, satisfied that Vivian had finally stopped talking. Yet, her insistent chatter was soon replaced with the tremendous sounds of the ballroom. The large and airy room was filled with people, all dressed to the nines. All of the men were in tuxedos with newly shined black shoes, and the women in long and delicate evening gowns, most with their hair up. From clinking glasses and laughter, to conversation about politics or business, all of the different sounds collected into one clamor which was only experienced at parties.

Arthur sighed happily as he spotted Merlin and Leon by the door, each with a drink in their hands, and their heads tossed back in laughter. Arthur and Vivian approached the two, catching them a little off guard.

Merlin's head drew back noticeably in surprise, as he opened his eyes, recovering from his glee. "Arthur. Vivian? Uhh…hi." Merlin sputtered, his gaze fixated on their locked arms.

Arthur glared at Merlin, remembering that he could always count on his friend to make situations even more awkward than they really were.

Leon thrust his hand in Vivian's direction, breaking the tense and uncomfortable silence. "Hi, I'm Leon. I think we've met once or twice before," he greeted Vivian with a warm smile.

"Vivian Remington; I think I've seen you around," she replied, shaking his rough hand. "Didn't you— "

Morgana intruded on the pleasantries, hustling towards the group, and grabbing Vivian excitedly by the shoulders. "Vivian Edmund O'Brien_ just_ came!"

Vivian's eyes widened, totally forgetting that the movie star was on the roster. "He's here, right now? In this room?" Vivian whispered, pointing towards the ground.

"No, not yet. But he will be soon! Come with me to the bathroom to make sure I look decent!" Morgana and Vivian wasted not another moment around the men, rushing off together in a frenzy, leaving the group of three in total awe.

"Arthur, what the _hell _is going on?" Merlin asked immediately.

Arthur snagged a glass of champagne from a servant who was walking past him, sipping it before answering Merlin. "What, me and Vivian?"

Leon and Merlin nodded in sync.

Arthur sighed. "Father told me to escort her for a while. I can't be a complete jerk to her with all these people around. Besides, she was being sort of tolerable, I guess."

Leon released a hearty laugh, as he playfully nudged Arthur in the shoulder. "So are we watching a reunion in the making between you too?"

Arthur nearly choked, quickly taking the glass away from his lips before he began coughing. "No. Ah hell no, Leon."

"Hey," Leon shrugged, "it happened once…"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Well it aint happening again; it was just etiquette. I _am _hosting this party after all; I have to be cordial, even to Vivian."

"No offense Arthur, but I don't think you can compete with Mr. Hotshot O'Brien," Merlin said pointing at the actor who had just walked into the room, garnering everyone's attention.

Arthur, along with the rest of the room turned to look at the A-Lister, before shrugging. "I'm not complainin'."

* * *

><p>After over an hour of socializing, and munching on appetizers, the multitude of guests were led into the dining room, where a countless number of round tables had been erected. Small place cards where set in the middle of each richly decorated table, designating the seat of each guest. Every year, Arthur and his friends were given the second table in the very front, preceded only by Uther's table of elites.<p>

Merlin stood beside one of the wooden chairs, pulling it out for Morgana, who happily accepted his off.

Arthur followed his friend's example, as he did the same for Vivian, who promptly placed a linen napkin on her lap.

"So, was Edmund O'Brien like you expected?" Arthur asked his cousin, who still appeared to be over the moon after her brief encounter with the star.

Morgana rested a hand dramatically against her partially exposed chest. "Oh my goodness Arthur, if you get me started, I'll be gabbin' all through dinner," Morgana exaggerated, causing Vivian to giggle lightly.

"Oh boy, I'm starving," Arthur commented as he watched the first round of servants exit the kitchen, holding silver platters with bowls of soup. He ducked his head slightly as Gwen approached his table, standing next to Leon.

"Good evening," she began with a polite smile. "I am serving the lobster bisque soup, but if you prefer, there is also a chicken-orzo soup coming around as well."

"Oh, I'll have some, Guinevere," Arthur said nearly immediately, followed with similar responses from Leon and Merlin.

Gwen moved next to Morgana, who didn't bother to look at the maid, but held up her hand whilst shaking her head.

"That soup; it's heavy in cream, aint it?" Vivian asked, trying to lift out of her seat a little so she could obtain a better look at its contents."

"Yes'm, it is."

"No thank you." Gwen nodded to the table, turning to leave before Vivian called out.

"Wait, wait!"

Gwen turned, as a wine glass was thrust in her direction.

"Could you fetch me some more white wine?" Vivian asked the maid sweetly. "Oh, and would you mind rinsing out the glass first? Thanks," Vivian finished with the tilt of her head.

Gwen's eyebrows raised for a brief moment, before she humbly nodded, placing Vivian's glass on her tray.

Arthur's head turned to watch Gwen attend to the table next to them, before he looked to Vivian, who had her hands folded on the table. "Was that _really_ necessary?"

Merlin and Leon were hunched slightly over their bowls, their spoons to their lips, before they both paused, watching Arthur.

"Was what necessary?" Vivian asked, looking to Morgana nervously for some type of clarification. But she only found her friend to be watching Arthur intently, completely ignoring her.

"You couldn't have waited 'till things slowed down a bit before demanding more wine? I mean, you could be just a little bit more considerate…" Arthur let his voice trail off, picking up his silver spoon, as if nothing had happened.

Vivian's cheeks took on color. "Well isn't it her job to serve me?" Vivian asked smoothing the top of her hair. She received no response from Arthur, who seemed to ignore her from that point on.

* * *

><p>Arthur Pendragon stood near one of the walls in the ball room, his stomach full, and his feet tapping happily to the music which the band was supplying, as he watched Merlin twirl around the room with some girl he had never seen before. Arthur had just stepped off of the dance floor, for he was becoming slightly woozy from his alcohol intake, and the constant spinning with a dance partner did little to help it. He looked down at his cold glass of ginger ale, wishing that he had heeded to his father's earlier advice.<p>

"Arthur? Arthur, are you alright, you don't look too good…"

Slowly, Arthur took his eyes off of the floating ice cubes, only to find Gwen, watching him with an expression of puzzlement, her hands full with a platter of empty glasses.

"Guinevere," Arthur replied with a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I think I just…drank a little too much."

Gwen's eyes fell to the soda in his hands. "Do you want me to get you anything? Does your head hurt?" She asked, lifting her hand to feel his forehead, before quickly retracting, and placing it at her side.

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me Gwen," Arthur assured her, shaking his hand.

"Okay…" she said slowly, watching Arthur skeptically for a few moments before nodding and leaving, not wanting to linger with him for too long.

* * *

><p>"Maybe if you go dancin' with another guy, you'll get him jealous?" Kate offered, twirling a strand of hair. Her tone suddenly became frantic, as she pointed across the room towards Arthur. "Look, look, look! That maid is gone, he's free now!" Kate said happily, watching Vivian's head turn to look at the lone and handsome Arthur who stood across the room, a smile on his face. She addressed Kate, turning once again. "He's been in a sour mood since dinner. Perhaps it's best if I don't."<p>

Kate clucked her tongue in disapproval, as she Vivian's wine glass from her hands. "I saw you two this night, and everyone could tell that he's totally smitten." Kate paused, letting her words sink in. "Now you got no excuse; go over there, be the doll you always are, and ask him for a dance."

Vivian patted the side of her head to make sure that no strands of hair had fallen out of place. "You're right; I'm not gonna accomplish anythin' by sitting here like a sack of potatoes."

Kate nodded proudly, holding her arms open in joy. "Listen; by the end of the night, you two will be rollin' out of here, joking and laughing like you—" Kate's words of encouragement to her distraught friend were cut off quickly, as her right hand collided with the momentum of a body. In an instant, the cool content within the glass which Kate was holding moved over the rim, and onto her chest.

"Oh, goodness…I'm so sorry!" Gwen exclaimed, covering her mouth as she took a step backwards.

Kate's mouth opened wide in shock, as she looked down at her bosom, gasping in horror as she saw the blood red stain on silk crème-colored dress. The glass hadn't fallen to the ground and broken, instead, somehow she was able to cradle it between her chest and hands. "What the hell is wrong with you!"

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there, I—"

Kate set Vivian's empty glass on the table next to her, with enough force to crush it. "Do you _know_ how much this dress cost, you bitch?"

"It was an accident ma'am. I'm truly sorry—"

"Your 'sorry' isn't fixin' to clean this dress!" Kate said through gritted teeth. She looked at Vivian who remained silent, then gave the maid one last scowl, before fleeing the ballroom.

Gwen and Vivian both stood there for a few moments, each watching the hysterical Kate Dodson weave through the crowd as quickly as she could, covering her soiled chest with her hands. Gwen looked down at the mess she had created, happy that at least she hadn't broken anything. Gwen addressed the silent and slightly awkward Vivian who remained in her presence, as if she didn't know where else to go. "I didn't get any of it on you, did I?"

Vivian gave the maid an onceover, just realizing that she was the same maid who came by her table earlier to serve her. "No, I'm fine." Vivian watched the maid bend over to brush off some liquid specks which had fallen on her stockings.

Gwen looked up, still slightly bent, addressing Vivian with a smile. "Could you tell your friend that I'm sorry again?"

Vivian nodded. "She's just bein'—dramatic…"

Gwen noted a slight hitch in Vivian's voice mid sentence, and then she noticed that all color had appeared to be drained from Vivian's face. The girl remained as still as a statue for a few moments, before walking backwards, her delicate fingers running over her bare neck."Miss? Are you ill?" Gwen asked moving towards her; the poor girl appeared to be wobbling slightly.

"Miss?" Gwen asked again, reaching out to Vivian, who took flight the moment Gwen's fingertips had touched her shoulder. Gwen watched in utter confusion as Vivian dashed further along the room, stopping in front of Morgana who was speaking to Merlin. Gwen could tell that some words were being exchanged, before Morgana handed her drink to Merlin, and followed Vivian out of the room in a hurry.

* * *

><p>"Vivian, what the hell is goin' on?" Morgana screeched, violently removing her forearm from Vivian's tight grasp, as she shut the door to one of the guest rooms on the first floor.<p>

"My God…I must be goin' crazy."

Morgana's eyebrows furrowed. "Could you please tell me what on _earth _is goin' on here! You can't just drag me out of a room suddenly, and not explain yourself!"

Vivian turned to her friend, a single tear drop rolling down her cheek. "I saw it…" she hardly whispered. "The necklace, I saw it."

"_The _necklace?" Morgana asked, her eyes widening in total shock, and a hand flying to her agape mouth.

Vivian spoke once again, but more to herself, as if she was reasoning. "I saw that necklace, on the neck of a nigger maid." She looked up at Morgana, laughing in a disturbing manner. The laugh came not from joy, but at the tragic irony Vivian was coming to terms with. "Now, tell me it aint true, and that I've been drinkin' too much, Morgana."

Silence.

"Tell me that I did_ not _see that necklace with the two good eyes God gave me, danglin' on the neck of a colored maid. Tell me I'm drunk, or delusional or…" Vivian walked to the dresser, flinging her arms on top for support, as she finally let her tears fall.

"A maid?" Morgana gasped, unable to move, just as overwhelmed as Vivian was, but with a mixture of different emotion. The next thing she knew, Morgana was jumping away from Vivian in a yelp, as a glass mirror came crashing to the ground in the opposite direction. "What the hell, Vivian!" Morgana shrieked, her eyes wide in terror as she looked at Vivian, who was beginning to take on the appearance of a deranged animal. Morgana looked to her left, where hundreds of thick shards law from the mirror which Vivian threw like a baseball.

"A maid! A fucking maid!" Vivian screamed, her anger replacing any sorrowful fragility she had displayed only moments earlier.

"Vivian, who are you talking about? Calm down for one fucking moment, and just speak!"

"This light-skinned maid ran into Kate, spilling my drink on her. When she was bending down, I saw it. I saw it, damn it! The silver chain, the pendant…Morgana, there was only one other in necklace like that in the store. There is no way that this is a coincidence; that she just _happens_ to work in the same house of Arthur. And where else would she have gotten such a necklace? I doubt _she_ could afford it." The wheels in Vivian's mind were turning; everything was making sense.

"Oh no…are you sure?"

"As I live in breathe."

Morgana sighed in disbelief, sitting on the bed slowly. "I don't believe this. One of our maids? All this time the girl has been living under my house, and I never knew? But, a maid? Tell me what she looked like; exactly."

Vivian took a deep breath, able to steady her tone just a bit. "She was real light-skinned, and her hair," Vivian touched her own blond locks, "they were curly. She had curly dark brown hair." Vivian paused, thinking of any other features she could use to describe the maid to Morgana. "Oh, and she spoke extremely well for a nigger, and she was polite. This tall," Vivian held up her hand to about her ear. "She was small. And— "

"Oh, dear: I know who it is."

Vivian's eyes widened as she watched Morgana in unbridled anticipation. "What's her name?"

"Guinevere Gibson, but she goes by Gwen."

Vivian's eyes narrowed, as she began to pace. "But why? Out of all the polite, beautiful, rich, and _white_ women Arthur is around, would he pick a maid?" Vivian still couldn't come to terms with that simple fact.

"Gwen, she's a charming girl; colored or not. She's eloquent, kind, pretty enough; maybe Arthur's curiosity got the best of him. You know how our men can be."

"Are you saying that you think she seduced him?"

Morgana shrugged, looking away dramatically. "It wouldn't be the first time something like this has happened. I mean…why else would Arthur risk everything for her? He probably couldn't help his passion. We are talkin' 'bout Arthur, afterall."

* * *

><p>Arthur looked at his wrist-watch, before turning to Merlin, tapping on the expensive Rolex. "Father's going to have his toast in ten minutes. Where'd Morgana go?" Arthur asked looking around the crowded ballroom.<p>

"She took off with Vivian somewhere; I thought they were going to freshen up." Merlin held up the glass Morgana gave to him before Vivian had whisked her away. "This was hers."

Arthur sighed, rubbing his temples. "I'll have to go get her. Father will have a stroke if she misses the toast."

Merlin shook his head. "You're the host, I'll go."

Arthur looked to his friend, waiting for him to relent. "Are you sure?"

Merlin waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah. Plus, I think there's still a line of girls waiting to dance with you." Merlin and Arthur looked at the group of girls who eyed them nervously, quickly diverting their gazes once Arthur looked in their directions.

"Alright, hurry, okay?"

"I'll be back soon!" Merlin walked near the walls, affording him a quick exit. As he walked towards the bathroom which was near the ballroom, he saw Kate Dodson rushing out, sniffling loudly as she blotted her chest with a damp cloth.

Merlin decided to try the dining room instead. He found Leon speaking with some business men. "Have you seen Morgana?" Merlin quickly whispered.

"Just ten minutes ago," Leon said pointing past the kitchen. "She was being pulled by Vivian; they went behind the kitchen somewhere."

Merlin knew the house well enough to know that they must have been in one of the many guest rooms which were in the wing directly behind the kitchen. Perhaps the bathrooms were crowded, and the opted for the privacy of a guest room. He passed the bustling catering service in the kitchen, who were scrambling to set up desert, and supply enough champagne for the upcoming toast. The noise of the kitchen began to fade, as Merlin walked into what appeared to be a deserted hall. He opened his mouth to call out for Morgana, but the influx of feminine voices stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Morgana! This obviously isn't some affair. She must be more than his mistress; he's buying her jewelry which costs thousands of dollars. She's obviously more than some tramp to him!"

Merlin's ears immediately perked up at those words, as his eyes fixated on a door which was slightly cracked. Quietly, he stood to the left of the slightly ajar door, fixing one of his large ears against the wall.

"Vivian, just calm down!" Morgana hissed, in an attempt to quiet the hysterical girl before someone heard her.

"Calm down? _Calm down_, Morgana? How can I? How are you so tranquil, when you have just found out that your cousin is fucking some maid, buying her jewelry…and God knows what else!"

Merlin sharply gasped, but quickly quieting himself so that he could hear the rest of the conversation…or argument.

"I am outraged Vivian, and how dare you insinuate otherwise!" Morgana finally matched Vivian's decibel levels. "But this doesn't come to me as so much of a shock. Like you said, I live with these people…and now I think about it, the signs have always been there."

"Like what?" Vivian asked shrilly.

"Lingering stares, blushing at the mention of the other's names, Arthur would disappear in the night…"

Merlin shifted, to try and listen better, for the two were calming down, and their voices weren't as loud.

"I'm gonna kill her. I'll take her by her filthy curly hair, and make her dread the day she was ever born."

"Listen Viv, I understand you're upset, and I'm mad as hell too."

"You sure got a way to show it…"

"But we need to be in control. We need to outsmart them; you will _not _lay a finger on Gwen, you hear me?"

"Why not!"

"Because Vivian, what good will you do by confronting the girl? What would you expect? For her to confess? To beg for forgiveness?"

Merlin strained his ears to try and pick up a response. But none came.

"Exactly," Morgana continued. "I don't need you in your rage to make things into an even greater mess than they are already. I don't want anyone else to know 'bout this—"

"Not even Uther?"

Merlin wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, as he waited for Morgana's delayed response.

"No. Not if I can help it, Uncle will be my last resort."

Merlin's back arched downward as he let out a sigh of relief.

"Why? We could end this abomination tomorrow!"

"Vivian, you will not!" Morgana yelled, quieting any of Vivian's arguments in an instant. "I have a heart. I don't want things to get out of hand. _I_ can settle this quietly. This little affair they have goin' on; it's a house of cards. It's fixin' to topple on itself, we just have to wait, and be _patient_."

"Morgana, you're not God." Vivian said simply. "What makes you think that you can control this, huh? This is bigger than you. But Uther, he is one of the most powerful men in the damn country! At the snap of his fingers, he could ruin this wench. Deport her family back to where they came from," Vivian snorted in disgust. "_Uther's_ the one who can make sure that Arthur never lays eyes on her again."

"I can't do that. I don't want to crush anyone, I just want them to come to their senses before even more people are hurt."

"Morgana, the fact that this has gone on for even a day is too much. Your time for your last resort is _now_!" Vivian nearly growled.

"Just trust me!" Morgana exclaimed, irritated.

"You're blinded by your affections for this girl!" Vivian said stomping her foot.

"And you by your love for Arthur!"

"Well, I'm done here then," Vivian said.

Merlin began to panic, as he realized that Morgana and Vivian would be coming right his way in a few moments. Quickly, he knocked against the door, taking a deep breath, and wiping his sweaty palms again.

The shuffling of Morgana and Vivian's heeled feet ceased, as Morgana brought her voice to a whisper. "Who's that?"

"I don't know."

Morgana cleared her throat, addressing the stranger behind the door. "Yes?"

Merlin opened the door just enough to poke his head through, afraid that the two women would see his trembling hand on the door knob if he opened it any further. He did the best he could to sound out of breath. "Uther's going to make his annual toast in about five minutes."

Morgana looked at Vivian quickly, realizing that she needed to clean up before she could present herself anywhere. Morgana plastered her best smile, and Merlin could see right through it immediately.

_Title Inspired by: "I'm Not Here for Rage, I'm Here for Revenge" by Emery_


	18. Chapter 18

_Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted; lot's of work (in and out of school). I hope everyone is enjoying season 4 of our beloved "Merlin" as I am…I'm waiting with baited breath for a certain someone to return…but I won't ruin it for those in other countries who haven't seen it yet... _

_Alright, I'd like to thank everyone who takes the time to read "My Love, My Secret", it's such a treat to see my readers increase, and know that you all enjoy it so much. Don't be shy in leaving a comment, and telling me what you thought of this chapter. Don't forget to add me to your Story Alert! :) Happy reading!_

_YoureAnIllusion_

_PS: The part(s) with the letters I tried to make as easy to read as possible (as far as spacing goes), so please forgive me for any inconsistancies. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18: Ok, Time for 'Plan B'<strong>

_Dear Gwen,_

_I don't think I'd be able to express how much I miss you in a short letter. I understand if you're upset with me, for it's been months since my last, but I've just been so busy training. New York City is the same; it's not nearly as amazing as I thought it would be. The city is dirty, there are too many cars, so much noise, and too many people in one place (don't even get me started on the crowding!) I miss back home; where the air is clean, people are friendly, and the food is good. I miss the warm sun on my face; it seems that there is no sun in this gray city… maybe that's why everyone is so grumpy._

Gwen snickered, laying down the letter for a brief moment.

_My training is going well, and I've only done a couple of fights; I've won them both. But don't worry; my head isn't getting _too_ big. I have made some friends up here, the only kind faces I know in this cold city. But yes, they are treating me well, you don't need to worry._

_But how about you? Are you finally able to stand Arthur now? Or has he driven you crazy already, and you ran as fast as you could in the other direction? I wouldn't blame you._

_Gwen, I miss your voice and your sweet laugh, that's just what I need to take the dreariness out of this place. But I think the city will grow on me. We'll have to see. You should really come up some time. I could show you the Statue of Liberty, the best—_

"Guinevere, what's that?" Arthur asked with a laugh, wrapping his arms around Gwen's waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Gwen gasped, quickly folding the letter in two as she felt Arthur's hot breath tickling her neck. She had been alone in the laundry room, her first chance to read Lorenzo's newly arrived letter since she received it that morning. "It's a…just a letter, Arthur."

"Oh yeah?" Arthur asked craning his neck to peek at the letter Gwen held at her side. "Who's it from?"

Gwen cleared her throat, turning around to face Arthur who seemed unusually happy. "You remember that boxer friend of mine? Lorenzo Camello?" Arthur's queasy look didn't escape Gwen, as she felt his arms go slightly limp.

"Him? Yeah, I remember the guy. What did he have to say?"

"He had to move to New York—"

"Really?"

"Don't sound too excited Arthur," Gwen scoffed folding the letter over again, as Arthur watched her do so cautiously. "We've been keeping in touch by writing to one another. It's been a while since I've heard anything from him. He's been busy…but, I didn't get to finish."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair. "It aint a love note, is it?" Arthur asked picking up the two pieces of paper which she had folded, hiding its contents. It was quickly snatched back by Gwen, who stared at him.

"No, it's not a _love note_ Arthur, don't be silly." Gwen dismissed his claim, placing the letter on top of a basket filled with folded clothes.

Arthur shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I mean, the guy obviously liked you. And you two _did _have a thing…and now he's writing you love letters…" Arthur's hands went into his pockets, as his gaze lowered to the ground. When he raised it, he found Gwen leaning against the washing machine, her arms folded over her chest with a smirk.

"Arthur Pendragon…are you jealous?" She asked, too amused.

"What? Me, jealous? Of course not." Arthur said scoffing, shaking his head.

"Good, 'cause it sure sounded like it."

"It's just that, I'm not sure I like him writing you letters… I know how you can be."

Gwen's eyebrows rose, as she looked to the shut laundry room door. "How I can be?" She asked confused.

"It was obvious the day that that guy—"

"His name is Lorenzo."

Arthur sighed. "It was obvious the day that _Lorenzo_ rolled up here that you two had a thing goin' on. And trust me, he was _way_ into you." Arthur said looking out of the sole window in the room. "So the thought of him writing you letters makes me squirm. There, I said it, happy?"

"Arthur, he's in New York. How on earth could anything be going on?"

"I'm not saying that anything is…but I'm just telling you that I'm not comfortable with the idea of my girlfriend writing to some guy who obviously has 'the hots' for her."

Gwen began laughing, as she bent down to take the last shirt out of the dryer. She held it against her chest, as she folded, still giggling. "Arthur, I assure you that Lorenzo doesn't have the hots for me." She placed the shirt in the basket, over the letter.

"So why won't you let me see the letter?"

Gwen picked up the basket, resting it on her hip. "Because, he's a friend, and frankly, it's none of your business, anyhow."

Arthur's eyes widened as Gwen brushed past him, moving towards the closed door. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on just a minute," Arthur said resting his hand on the door knob.

"What now, Arthur?"

He reached his arms out, taking the basket, and setting it on the floor. "Are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm not mad," Gwen said quickly, picking up the basket once again.

Arthur took it back, putting it on the ground, and sliding it away from the two of them. "Leave the basket alone."

"Arthur, what is your problem?" Gwen asked, clearly agitated.

"You tell me, you're the one who's upset here."

"You're not helping things," Gwen said pushing some hair out of her face. "You're acting all jealous because of some letter. Lorenzo is a friend, one who lives in New York City for goodness sake."

"You misunderstood me; I'm not accusing you of anything. I just don't like the guy."

Gwen scoffed, walking to the basket, and lifting the shirt which was covering the letter, mumbling to herself. She whipped it out, holding it in front of Arthur. "Go on then, read it. It seems you won't believe me until you do."

Arthur looked down at the two sheets of paper, sorry that he said anything in the first place.

"Well, you started this. Go on, and read the letter," Gwen challenged him.

Arthur looked at her one last time before picking it up. He read only the first side of the first page, before shaking his head, and handing it back to her.

"Are you satisfied?"

Arthur merely nodded, swallowing. "You're right, I was being silly. All of that is in the past."

Gwen too nodded, folding the papers again. "Lorenzo is only a friend, I swear Arthur."

"I know, I'm sorry," Arthur whispered, ashamed of his behavior.

Gwen's head tilted, gauging Arthur's feelings. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"Oh really?"

"Well…perhaps a little," she said with a small smile.

* * *

><p>Merlin parked his car in front of the Pendragon mansion, resting his throbbing head against the driver's seat headrest; he really wasn't' up for socializing at the moment, much less with the past two weeks, the only thing that had been on his mind was the conversation which he heard on accident. Or, perhaps it wasn't an accident at all. Merlin was beginning to think that he was meant to walk in on Morgana and Vivian's encounter, if only to protect Gwen and Arthur. Protect…from Morgana. The notion was still foreign to him.<p>

"_I'm gonna kill her. I'll take her by her filthy curly hair, and make her dread the day she was ever born."_

Vivian's hateful words played in Merlin's head like a reel, as he looked at his watch, realizing that he was running late. Biting the bullet, he stepped out of his car, his eyes narrowing as he saw Vivian's car parked on the other side of the fountain. She was at the house…_again._ Merlin was pretty sure that in the past two weeks, Vivian had set a record for the most regular visitor at the Pendragon Estate. _At least she's a persistent spy._

"Ah, good evein', Mr. Merlin," a servant sang, opening the door for the regular guest, who came rushing up the steps.

Merlin quickly nodded his thanks, stepping into the toasty Pendragon abode, a contrast to the air outside which was beginning to take on a slight chill. The smell Stella's famous pot roast assaulted his hungry senses. As he moved towards the familiar dining room, he heard the chairs moving against the wood, and laughter from various sources.

"Hi everyone, sorry I'm late," Merlin waved shyly, as he made his presence known.

"Fantastic, Merlin's here," Uther beamed, informing the table's other occupants with glee. Perfect timing I might add; we were just about to start."

Morgana smiled ear to ear, patting the empty seat next to her; the seat she always saved for her friend.

Merlin nodded, swallowing in a futile attempt to get rid of the bad taste which had been lingering in his dry mouth as he sat next Morgana, who watched him carefully. The moment she turned her head, Merlin scooted his chair away from her, relishing the distance. The clatter of utensils against plates snapped Merlin out of his daze, raising his head to find Vivian staring at him, quickly diverting her gaze as he returned the favor, deciding to look towards Arthur instead.

"So, how was work today, Arthur?" Uther asked, spreading the white linen napkin in his lap, watching his son do the same.

"Great; I'm in a routine now, I guess."

"What do you do exactly, Arthur?" Vivian asked, delicately biting a green bean.

"Uhmm…not much. Nothing really." Arthur replied looking down at his plate.

Uther let out a hardy laugh, picking up his glass, and nodding towards his son who sat to his right. "Vivian dear, he's just being modest. He'll run errands, he goes with other associates to evaluate properties, crunch some numbers from time to time. He's already pulled his first all-nighter at the office!"

"Really?" Vivian turned to Arthur.

Arthur quickly looked at her, before nodding. "Yeah, I just help out."

It was Morgana's turn to jump in. "Vivian, you should see him when he gets all dressed up for work. He's just the cutest little businessman," Morgana said with a grin.

"Morgana…" Arthur grumbled lowly.

"Arthur, why don't you show Vivian around sometime? She's been asking me for a tour for _the _longest time, but I wouldn't have a clue what to show her," Morgana said, looking at the pot roast she was cutting, escaping her cousin's icy glare.

"Is that true Vivian?" Uther asked, turning to the girl whose cheeks were taking on color.

"I've certainly had the curiosity, sir. I always hear you and my father talkin' 'bout it. I thought it'd be neat to actually see it."

"Well, I'll make it happen. I'm sure Arthur will be a fine guide." Uther turned to his quiet son, whose gaze was fixed on his meddling cousin across the table. "Are you up to it, Arthur?"

Arthur quietly nodded.

Merlin swallowed a snort as he took a sip of his water, reminding himself that he should encourage Morgana to forfeit her dreams of going into business, and join Hollywood instead. On the other hand, her little sidekick was hardly a pro at all. Looking at her sink into her chair from embarrassment, she could be read like an open book. But Morgana…she was an altogether different breed of animal.

Every time he looked upon her, whether it be on campus, or in her home, Merlin felt revulsion encompass him, though two weeks ago he would have counted Morgana as one of his best friends. But he supposed that that too was a lie…he still wasn't sure.

Merlin could feel his throat becoming dry; even the _thought _of Morgana's betrayal evoked a physical reaction from him. His lips remained on the glass after a few gulps, and he realized that he had drained it totally empty. With hardly a moment of delay, the servant who was attending their dinner came out to refill his glass to the brim.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Uther wiped his mouth quickly, signaling the servant to refill his glass as well. "Merlin, you really are the Southern gentleman. There's no need to thank them; it's their job."

"Habit, from my parents, I suppose," Merlin replied quietly. He was trying his best to act normal, but it was hard. He could feel Morgana's pensive gaze to his side eyeing him like a hawk, and it was all he could do to keep his food down.

"Ah, your parents, how are they any way?"

Merlin looked down at his nearly full plate. "I wouldn't know, they're traveling as usual."

"Where are they this time? Alaska? Jamaica?"

Merlin cleared his throat running a hand through his dark hair. "No sir, they're in Egypt, for the second time. They're on a cruise with some friends."

"In Egypt, you said?" Vivian asked, breaking her silence.

Merlin looked at the girl who had suddenly become excited, only able to muster a nod as response.

"I would love to go there someday, and see the pyramids and the sphinx…and all those wonderful things," Vivian thought happily, resting a pale hand on her chest.

Again, Merlin just nodded.

"What, a cat got your tongue Merlin?" Arthur asked from across the table, he too breaking his own silence.

"No."

"Merlin, are you eating, boy?" Uther asked, pointing to the untouched food.

"Oh, sorry," he replied quickly, taking up his fork in haste.

For the next fifteen minutes, Merlin forced himself to eat, and contribute thoughtfully to the table discussion, so as not to raise suspicion of his new behavior. He reclined in his seat, as Uther called for the desserts to be presented. Their attendant disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing with five small plates and Gwen behind her holding triple tier strawberry shortcake.

Merlin's tired eyes widened with a mixture of shock and anxiety as he watched Gwen gracefully saunter from the kitchen. Merlin sat up straight in the large chair, as a snow white plate was placed in front of him. He quickly looked at Morgana, who looked at her nails as she waited to be served. From across the table, Merlin could see Vivian's eyes carefully watching Gwen's every movement, as the maid sat the cake down next to Uther.

"Go on, and cut a piece for everyone," the head of the house instructed.

Merlin held up his hand in objection. "Oh, no thank you Uther. I'm quite full."

"Cut him a smaller piece," Uther adjusted his request, nodding towards Merlin.

Merlin resisted a sigh, taking a quick peek at Vivian, whose full attention was on Gwen. She was literally gripping her spoon so tightly, that her knuckles began to turn pink, and Merlin would later swear that she was gritting her teeth as well. Merlin's lip curled, as he was reminded for the millionth time just how off kilter Vivian was, as the jealous girl's cold eyes followed Gwen all the way back to the kitchen after she was done serving the table. Her gaze remained fixed in that direction, until Merlin felt Morgana's leg brush past him under the table and…did she just kick Vivian?

Merlin stole his last quick peek at Morgana, all of her feigned features of sweetness and calm were gone, as she gave Vivian a stern look, which lasted for mere moments. But Merlin saw it. It seemed that he had been seeing a lot more lately, and he hadn't been able to decide whether or not it was a blessing or a curse.

* * *

><p>Morgana had reread the same paragraph for the fifth time, before she closed her textbook in frustration, throwing it to the hard ground, resulting in a thump. Vivian had just gone home after dinner, and Morgana decided that she needed to commit some time to studying; it was absolutely futile. She rolled onto her back with a labored sigh, taking her glasses off in haste. She would have thrown them too, if they weren't glass.<p>

Her cool hands covered her face, as she took shallow breaths, glancing back and forth between her phone and her textbook which was now open on the floor. The reason that she couldn't study was because she was deciding whether or not to make a simple phone call. It would take twenty minutes at the most, and her problems would be solved. Yet, she wasn't sure that that was the plan of action she wanted to pursue…but Morgana Pendragon realized that she was quickly running out of options. She had to do it.

"_Carpe diem_."

Morgana took a deep breath, strengthening her shaky resolve. In a swift motion, she swung her legs over the bed, until her bare feet made contact with the cool hardwood floor. Slowly, giving herself apt time to change her mind, she reached for the large drawer which was in her bedside table. Rummaging through its many contents, Morgana grumbled until she found the small folded piece of paper. Quickly, she moved to the other side of her bed, picking up the purple phone which matched her canopy bed. She looked at the telephones large numbers, and dialed the single digit, listening to the dial tone, resisting the urge to bite her manicured nails. She sighed in relief as she heard a woman answer, like she expected.

"Yes, Operator, could you connect me to the Adamson School? Sure, I'll hold."

* * *

><p>"Merlin…you know what the one good thing is about these damn exams?" Arthur asked tapping his fingers against his bead post.<p>

Merlin looked up from the textbook which was in his lap. "There's something good in them?"

"Sure; they mean that we have only one semester of college left. Then we're done. Then we're free, damn it!" Arthur laughed a little, standing, and stretching his arms behind his back. "Then I'm a free man," he said with a sigh.

"Uhh…a free man working at his father's company…"

Arthur shot Merlin a frosty glare. "It's the family business. And what are you gonna do, huh? At least I'll have a job."

"I don't need a job, and neither do you. I don't have to work a day in my life, if I don't want to."

"But…you can't do that," Arthur said, his eyes narrowing.

Merlin shrugged. "I'm not really worried about it now, I'm sure my parents already have plans for me.

Arthur laughed closing his text book. "I think we need a break." Arthur rubbed his stomach. "And I'm hungry. I wonder if Stella fixed anything…"

"You can go check, but I gotta use the bathroom."

Arthur nodded, opening the door to his room, and quickly leaving.

Merlin hurried to Arthur's adjoined restroom, he too walking out of the room a couple of minutes later. As he walked down the spiral staircase, Merlin could hear Morgana and Arthur's voices drift from living room.

"No, Morgana." Arthur said bitterly. "I don't have the time, how many different ways can I say that?"

"What are you doing that's so important?"

"Trying not to fail my exams. Don't look so surprised," Arthur scoffed.

"Trust me, if Clarence was here, I'd ask him to do it, but unfortunately, you're all that's left."

"Wow, now that _really_ makes me want to do it."

Merlin walked into the room finally, looking at the two quarrelling cousins. "Do what?"

Morgana pointed at Arthur, obviously frustrated. "Mr. Lazy over here won't do me the itsy bitsy favor of checking my engine," Morgana huffed.

"Morgana I'm busy…and hungry," Arthur groaned.

Morgana clasped her hands together. "Please? It won't take long. And you're so good with cars, I trust you as much as any other mechanic."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. I'll take a look, but I aint prominsin' any miracles, okay? Just stop begging."

Morgana let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you, I owe you one Arthur."

Arthur looked at Merlin who stood by, merely analyzing the spectacle. "You're not any good with cars, are you Merlin?"

"Not really…I'll just hang around."

"Okay, I won't be long."

Merlin nodded, watching Morgana and Arthur leave the room; his smile immediately melting off of his face the moment Morgana was out of his sight. She was so good, it was scary. Merlin shook his head as he slowly walked up the steps, back to Arthur's room. Reaching for the door knob, his pale hand lingered for a moment. Slowly, his head turned to Morgana's bedroom door which was slightly ajar. As if Merlin had no control, his hand slipped off of Arthur's door, and his entire body faced Morgana's room across the hall. It was as if the dark wooden door now had neon arrows pointing at it in all directions, daring him…no, inviting him to enter.

Merlin looked down the steps, and realized that the house was nearly completely silent. The opportunity was too good to pass up. Merlin reminded himself of this, and mentally promised that he would only take a peek…for a minute.

Checking his back one more time, finding the coast totally clear, Merlin turned the door knob, stepping into Morgana's expansive quarters. The smell of vanilla hit him like a tidal wave, as he moved further into the room, dismissing the front area where there was a table and some other furniture. He walked into the heart of the room to look for…anything, really. Merlin would be satisfied with just the smallest morsel of to explain what he considered a speedy and drastic transition. Maybe he'd find something explaining her motives…but that was wishful thinking.

He moved first to her mirror, and the table directly in front of it. But all he saw were brushes, makeup, and bottles of hairspray. That was useless. He stopped, tapping his chin, reminding himself that he didn't have much time.

"Think like a girl. Where would I hide secret things…" He thought for a moment, before nearly exclaiming, "Aha!" In a moment, he was on his knees, crawling to look under Morgana's bed. In the dark space, he could make out some mint wrappers and… three shoe boxes.

"Bingo."

He took one of the large show boxes, opening it up like a Christmas present in his lap as he crossed his legs. It was filled with papers. Merlin anxiously picked a packet up, realizing that they were merely essays and other schoolwork. Crown achievements of Morgana Pendragon, but they did little to curb his curiosity.

He reached for the second one, finding wads of old and new receipts, before pushing that one aside in frustration as well. The last one; the third box…he knew that would be it. _ That_ would be the smoking gun he ached for. He could literally feel his hands tremble in anticipation as he reached for the smaller box, lifting the lid slowly.

"Wow, great," Merlin sighed in defeat. This one was filled with pictures. "What's up with her and shoe boxes?" He asked himself, as he slid the final box under the bed. He stood, his knees cracking, as he surveyed the room with his hands on his narrow hips. "Think like a girl…think like a—" Merlin's feet instinctively moved to Morgana's large wardrobe, but was soon disappointed with that location as well; the only thing he found was dresses and tops.

Maybe there was nothing tangible at all. Merlindid have to give Morgana _some_ credit; she wasn't stupid, obviously. She had proven her craftiness, and a hidden talent of manipulation. She had tied all of her loose ends, managed to fool everyone, and as far as Merlin knew, she only slipped up once, but even that was chance. There was no way that finding any evidence would be easy; she was too smart than that. But he was smarter, and spurred on by good intentions.

Merlin shook his head, realizing that he was wasting too much time contemplating. He wanted to look out the window to see what Morgana and Arthur were doing, but someone would probably see him.

"Okay, think. Gwen cleans this room every single day. It has to be somewhere where she wouldn't clean. Somewhere—" Merlin's eyes widened as his gaze fell upon Morgana's left bedside table, where one of the drawers were slightly ajar. He rubbed his hands in anticipation, bending down to pull the drawer out. It was messy; pens, notepads, and couple of magazines were its contents. He took one of the two legal pads which were crammed in the drawer, leafing through it quickly. His heart sped up, as he read the words on each page, realizing that they were just things she had written down to remind herself of later. Merlin was careful to put everything back the way he found it, nearly running to the identical table on the other side of the bed.

This drawer was completely empty, save for a few pens and a single ornate notebook…a diary? Merlin gasped, this was it. He picked up the book, only to find it waited down by…a lock. He turned over the small silver lock, cursing to himself. Merlin was sure that the answers to all of his questions were in this diary; otherwise Morgana wouldn't have gone through the trouble of locking it. No: some tiny lock was not going to be the end all.

He sprang to his feet running to Morgan's table with all of her hair products. He rummaged through a shallow glass tray, filled with head bands and clips, until he found the small black bobby pin he was searching for.

Merlin thanked God that Arthur always took him along to be his accomplice on his many shenanigans throughout the years. Merlin had picked up a few things, and he had watched Arthur pick a few locks in his time…knowledge he never actually needed until now.

He straightened the pin completely, jamming it into the lock, and wiggling it around until…Merlin had never loved a clicking sound so much in his life. The rather cheap lock sprung open, and Merlin wasted not another moment taking it off, and opening the book. The very first page was slightly frayed and colored, filled with Morgana's neat and slanted handwriting in crisp blue ink.

_"March 21__, 1952:_

_I went to Mama and Dad's graves today, and Arthur came with me for moral support. I'm glad he was there to—"_

Merlin snorted, flipping the page. "And this is how you repay him…" But that entry was more than two years old. Merlin flipped through several other entries which were also written in 1952, until he came across a blank page, followed by more writing. It was definitely Morgana's penmanship, but this entry was rather sloppy, as if she was writing it in extreme haste.

_"June 2__, 1954:"  
><em>

That was this year; Merlin took a deep breath, hardly able to contain his excitement.

_"I knew it. I totally knew the moment I laid eyes on Gwen Gibson that Arthur would become smitten with her; she's too good for him to resist. The girl, our new maid, she is quite the extraordinary colored. She's quite educated and charming, sassy and vibrant. She's a beautiful girl; light skinned with curly hair and the softest brown eyes, and calming voice. __But her innocence…that's what's damned her to Arthur's grasp. The alluring fox that he has been known to be—"_

"Alluring fox? What the hell…" Merlin resisted commenting any further as he continued to read.

_"I fear that he's already swept her off of her tiny little feet. I've been watching the two, and when Arthur began being kind to the girl, I knew his intentions immediately. He's a man, they're all too predictable. (Especially when the only Negro he's ever been amicable with is Stella, and sometimes Clarence.)_

_That hot head Roger nearly struck Gwen in pubic, and Arthur defended her with all of his might. He came home (Uncle was away on business), absolutely bloody; it was sickening. Needless to say that the house has been in absolute pandemonium, since, all because of this girl. Uncle read Arthur the riot act, Arthur was gone the whole night (probably to his pond), but what's worse is the development I just made. A couple of days ago, as Gwen was leaving, I saw a book poking out of her bag. I asked her about it, and she dodged my questions, quite terrible at hiding her lies. I went to Clarence, for I knew Arthur sent him to fetch something the night before…and imagine my surprise when I find out it's the same book, the same __new_ _copy I found Gwen with."  
><em>

"She's getting worked up over a book? What the hell is wrong with her?" Merlin skipped down the page, as her handwriting became sloppier throughout the entry.

_"I better keep an eye on them…I know Arthur. He'll snatch her up completely the moment he gets a chance, and Gwen won't be able to resist. The poor girl; she has no idea who the hell she's dealing with."_

Merlin skipped a few other pages, coming to a more recent entry.

_"August 30__, 1954:_

_There's been a tension between Arthur and me, maybe all this talk of fires and the Klan is going to his head, and he fears for his beloved "Guinevere". I haven't had much time to write lately, but so much has happened. Two houses were burned down in Gwen's neighborhood, and of course, Mr. Knight-in-shining-armor had to go save her. It truly makes me sick. I'm surprised that Uncle didn't pick up on Arthur's peculiar behavior, for he tore out of the house without listening to reason. But Vivian did…she's much more attentive than I thought._

_I must be brief, for supper is in fifteen minutes. Okay: last week, I went to Vivian's house to spend the night, but she was feeling ill so I came home. I parked my car, only to find the two lovebirds sneaking out of the house by way of the darkened patio. Fucking hell, how long has it been, and they're already so damn sloppy?"  
><em>

Merlin blinked at Morgana's salty words; she never swore. He found out new things about her every day.

_"Needless to say, I followed them. Our little Casanova made it too easy, with his flashlight, and their nervous whispering leading the way. Well, Arthur took her to the pond, and I must admit, the set up was quite romantic. But I made a mistake; he heard someone in the woods, and he was so close to finding me…but then he turned away."  
><em>

Merlin sighed, shaking his head; Morgana needed serious help. He was aware that Morgana knew too much information for there not to be some spying involved…but following them to the woods at night? How far was she willing to go for this?

The ticking of the clock made Merlin read a few more entries, but not in their entirety. It was mainly Morgana lamenting, reporting any gestures she saw between the "lovebirds" (as she often referred to them), or her noting changes in Arthur's personality. Merlin did notice, however, that even in the entry where Morgana wrote on the fires in Gwen's neighborhood, her tone was turning colder. Her stance of being a protectorate as expressed in the earlier entries was dissipating, and it was replaced by a sense of betrayal by Arthur, disgust.

But yet again, Merlin had to give her some credit. Morgana had been fooling everyone since…June? It was now the beginning of November. How exhausting.

_"September 13__, 1954__:_

_Vivian has been such an asset. She's keen on discovering Gwen, I know that she's close…she's much more persistent than I thought she would be. The poor girl still loves Arthur, and doesn't want to move on; it's what fuels her determination…but I'll take whatever I can get."  
><em>

_"September 22__, 1954:_

_Vivian approached me in the courtyard today on campus. She early dragged me to the bathroom where she locked the door. My steadfast patience has been rewarded. Yesterday, she saw Arthur buying a necklace (for his Guinevere, no doubt), and it has crushed her. Yet, Vivian isn't the air head which everyone takes her for. Expressive, yes. Dramatic…perhaps, but she can be quick as a whip, I swear it. Due to her quick thinking, she was able to get a thorough look at the necklace. Now, it's just a matter of waiting—"_

Merlin's ears perked up, as he heard Arthur and Morgana close the front door. He sprang up, taking the lock which was next to him, and closing the diary, being careful to put it back in the same place where he had found it. He snatched up the misshapen bobby pin as well, putting it into his pants pocket. He sped walked to the door, taking one last look around the room, making sure that it looked untouched; it did.

Merlin tiptoed out of the room, turning slowly to close Morgana's door softly.

"Merlin? Merlin, is that you?"

Every muscle in his body tensed, as he turned around, only to find Gwen, peering at him over a stack of towels. He sighed happily, running a hand through his hair. "Hey Gwen, it's been a while."

"It has…but what were you doing in Morgana's room?"

Merlin looked towards her door, as he heard Morgana and Arthur's footsteps coming up the stairs. "I was looking for an eraser; Arthur didn't have any," Merlin rushed out quickly, just as Morgana and Arthur came to the top of the stairs.

"Oh, Morgana; is your car alright?" Gwen asked.

Morgana smiled. "Thanks for asking Gwen, it's just fine, Arthur fixed it right up," Morgana said patting her cousin on the back. "You should be proud of him," Morgana said with a slight smirk, looking directly at the maid.

Merlin's eyes narrowed; as he caught the comment which he assumed flew over the heads of Arthur and Gwen. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

"Arthur, I didn't know you could fix cars," Gwen said with a smile, patting her stack of towels.

Merlin groaned, not wanting to prolong an interaction between Arthur and Gwen while they were under the watchful eye of Morgana.

Arthur shrugged, looking towards Morgana. "I tinker a little, I guess."

Gwen smiled at Arthur, fixing her hair with her free hand. "Well, I'll see y'all later, I have to go fix supper, and take these towels downstairs."

"Here, I'll get those, Guinevere," Arthur quickly said, not giving her a chance to resist, as he took the four towels. The two walked down the steps, picking up another conversation, leaving Morgana and Merlin at the top of the staircase.

Merlin looked turned to Morgana, who looked down the steps in a daze. "They're quite tender with each other," Morgana said almost to herself, then turning to Merlin.

"Not really, Arthur was just being polite."

Morgana nodded, giving Merlin a forced smile. "You're right of course Merlin. You're staying for supper, right?"

Merlin cleared his throat, nodding.

"Great, I'm going to wash up," Morgana said happily.

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired by: "Ok, Time For 'Plan B'" by Enter Shikari<em>


	19. Chapter 19

_Hello lovely readers, I present to you, after a sort of prolonged wait, Chapter 19 "An Endless Serenade". I hope you all enjoy it; I really had fun writing this one!_

_Reading the comments I received for the past two weeks,( especially about Morgana's diary entries) made me genuinely chuckle. Don't forget to comment on this one as well, for much does happen. I'm extremely curious (and excited) to see what your reaction is to the ending… __Also, if you have time, it may be beneficial to read CH. 18 again, because if you missed certain details in there, come of CH. 19 won't make sense.__ Happy reading :)_

_**P.S.:**__ If you haven't noticed, in this story I use the Southern lingo, which is used down here. If you ever don't know what a word or phrase means, just ask me in a comment, and I would be happy to explain. (FYI, later in this chapter you'll see "sucker", and in that connotation, it means "baby".)_

_You'reAnIllusion_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19: An Endless Serenade <strong>

"_Arthur, you can't carry me! Are you insane?" Gwen squealed, rubbing her bare arms as a cool summer breeze rolled past her. She turned nervously, looking at the movers who waited on the street impatiently by their small orange truck._

_Arthur tilted his head to the side, glancing quickly at the hired help who were all lighting cigarettes despite the warm weather. "Yes I can! I've carried you before. C'mon Guinevere, you're still as light as a feather," he assured her with a grin._

"_No I'm not…" Gwen grumbled, looking down at her swelling stomach._

_Arthur sighed lightly, resting his hands on Gwen's shoulders. "Do we have to go over this again?"_

"_No…" _

"_Listen Guinevere, we're finally out of that that tiny apartment!"_

_Gwen nodded. "I know."_

"_I know? That's all you have to say? We should be rejoicing in loud hallelujahs! Goodbye tiny bed! We'll never have to cook in that unbearable kitchen, or fiddle with the lousy air conditioning anymore!" Arthur stated triumphantly._

"_We made do," Gwen reminded him with a shrug._

"_We sure did, but look, honey." Arthur turned Gwen slightly, so they both faced their new home, taking in its entire splendor. The three story house was made of a deep red brick, which complimented the black pointed roof. The front façade was covered with windows with black shutters, and an expansive white porch graced the front as well. "A five bedroom house; all to ourselves. In the back, there's a fenced in yard, where Arthur Junior and I will toss around the old pig skin," Arthur smiled, rubbing his wife's stomach affectionately. "Or, if we have a beautiful mini-Gwen, then there's also a garden in the back, where I'm sure you'll teach her all of your secrets."_

_Gwen laughed, covering her husband's hand which rested on her ever expanding middle. "What if we have twins?"_

_Arthur beamed from ear to ear. "Even better! But first, we need to actually get into the house. Correction, I actually have to carry you into the house, Mrs. Pendragon. I'm not one for breaking tradition…"He joked. _

_Gwen sighed. "Alright, just don't drop me or 'Arthur Junior'; got it?" She warned._

"_Got it," Arthur assured her quickly, wasting not another moment to sweep her up in his strong embrace. Gwen's arms quickly wrapped around Arthur's neck, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as he took a large step over the home's threshold. Arthur gently set his wife down, wrapping his arm protectively around her waist, as they each took a moment of silence to look at the empty house. "Now I know it aint a mansion—"_

_Gwen put a hand on Arthur's chest to silence him. "We don't need a mansion. This house is beautiful, Arthur, honestly. It's absolutely huge, what are we going to do with all of the spare rooms?" Gwen asked laughing, looking around the expansive bottom floor._

"_I guess we'll just have to make lots of Arthur Juniors, and fill up the house," Arthur whispered, pulling Gwen in for another kiss._

_Gwen happily obliged, still giggling at Arthur's comment. She pulled away slowly as she heard the gruff voice of one of the movers call from the doorway. _

"_Excuse me, Mister, Misses…"He cleared his throat uncomfortably as he watched the couple untangle from each other's embrace._

"_Yes?" Arthur asked, his arm still protectively around Gwen._

"_Some woman's here. Uhh…saying she's the maid?"_

_Gwen looked up at Arthur, a look of puzzlement on her face, as she pushed a curl to the side. "Morgana? Does she know she's a day early?"_

_Arthur scoffed impatiently, as he walked to the door, looking out onto the extensive front yard, where Morgana was making her way up the drive way. Arthur sighed as he shook his head, a hand resting on his hip, the other to rubbing his forehead. "Morgana, didn't I tell you to come tomorrow?"  
><em>

"_No…you said today."_

"_What the hell are you supposed to do today when nothing's in the house yet?"_

_Morgana's normally dark long tresses had been cut, and done up quickly in a hideous bun. Her pale yet clear skin was now clammy, taking on a grayish tint. And her said light eyes were accompanied by light purple hands, the rough exterior of her face matched her hands, which were dry and cracked, much like the hands of any common maid who scrubbed floors and washed clothes every day for a living._

"_I guess you'll have to come back tomorrow…I'm sure you can mop the floor or something then," Arthur scoffed, waving his hand, as if he was dismissing her. "Guinevere's waiting for me; go catch a bus or something."_

_Morgana opened her mouth to protest—_

Morgana rolled onto her back, as a loud groan escaped her dry lips. Her incessant alarm clock was blaring away, causing her to slam it so hard in annoyance that her palm began to ache only moments later. She shielded her eyes from the enormous amount of sunlight which was pouring in through the window by her canopy bed, whose drapes were up. Sitting up slowly, she stretched her stiff arms out by reaching backward.

It was happening again. Nearly a month free of dreams, and out of the blue, she was cursed with another; a new one, in fact. Morgana rubbed her temples, as she tried to recall the details….Oh yes, she was a maid, and working for Gwen and Arthur, no less. Gwen was obviously pregnant, and they were moving into a house, and—this dream was definitely the most bizarre one to date. Usually, her dreams which were related to Arthur and Gwen made sense…but this one? There was no way in hell that Arthur could be with Gwen, and afford such a beautiful house. And even if he magically did somehow, there was no way in hell she'd be his maid…no, that was Gwen's job.

Morgana snorted at the thought, walking around her bed to her right bedside table, to retrieve her diary where she occasionally recorded dreams. She took the ornate book out, resting it on top of her bed, lifting up her mattress to retrieve the key which rested under the mattress on the wooden frame. Sighing, she proceeded to unlock her diary, writing with vehemence.

* * *

><p>"Arthur, didn't you hear me calling for you?" Uther stood by his seat at the set dining table, watching his out of breath son slip on a jacket. "Take off your coat Arthur, so we can eat," Uther suggested, obviously irritated.<p>

Arthur looked to the lunch waiting on the table which the staff had prepared, and his empty setting. Morgana sat in her usual place, quietly peering at him as her chin rested on her clasped hands. "No can do Dad; I gotta jet."

Uther blinked, tilting his head. "Jet? Jet where exactly?"

"I'm meetin' up with some friends for lunch," Arthur looked at his watch quickly. "And I'm runnin' late, sorry."

"What friends? I thought they all hated you?" Morgana asked bluntly, shifting to lay her linen napkin in her lap.

Arthur couldn't help the scowl which immediately appeared on his face. "Well, at least the ones I have aren't annoying air-heads like Vivian."

Morgana scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, you like it Arthur."

"Sure I do. Just like how you like Roger—"

"Please!" Uther halted the argument with the single word. "I can't bear the squabbling, you two act like damn children sometimes."

"We're sorry Uncle," Morgana apologized, as Uther was seated. "I was just curious to know who exactly Arthur's meeting, that's all."

Arthur's eyes narrowed at his intrusive cousin. "It's no one you know."

"Try me," Morgana shrugged, finally looking at her cousin again, watching him squirm

"How 'bout: it's none of your business, then?"

"Arthur…" Uther warned quietly.

"It's okay Uncle, he's probably going to meet some girl, and he's just embarrassed." Morgana grinned, turning to Uther.

"Arthur? Meeting a girl? Never!" Uther joked, taking a drink of water.

Morgana looked at her watch for dramatic effect, then at her cousin whose hands were stuffed in his pockets. "Well, tell her I said 'hi', will ya?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, addressing his father. "I'll be home around eight."

"Alright, have fun, and don't stay out too late; you're working in the office tomorrow."

Arthur nodded, running a hand through his hair, turning to leave. "Okay, I'll = see ya'll later."

Uther watched his son leave the room, but the clinking of Morgana's utensils soon drew him out of his thoughts.

After a few moments of eating, Morgana paused, swallowing before addressing her silent and motionless uncle. "Are you well, Uncle?"

"Oh, I'm fine dear," he responded quickly, with a smile. "I was thinking, that's all."

"May I ask what's troubling you?"

"Oh, just Arthur. He's been acting strange lately, don't you think?"

Morgana paused. "No, not really."

"Perhaps I'm reading into things too much, but since the summer, he's like a new man. His temper has calmed— "

"What about that fight he got in with Roger over the summer? That was _definitely_ a temper flare."

"Granted…but there was something different to that. He wasn't fighting for the sake of fighting, but defending a woman." Uther laughed at the thought. "I'd like to think that I've raised him well, and he can be a good boy. But I never thought I'd have Arthur telling me how he felt it necessary to defend the honor of a woman."

"A colored woman."

Uther blinked, as if he had forgotten. He nodded, taking a drink of water. "You're right, one of our maids, wasn't it?"

"Yes, her name is Guinevere Gibson…Arthur's quite taken with her."

"Oh yes, your…friend?"

"You could call her that."

Uther finally picked up his fork, looking down at his full plate. "Taken with her? What's that supposed to mean?" Uther asked with a chuckle.

Morgana shrugged. "They're friends. He always speaks well of her."

"Really…" Uther's voice trailed off as he tilted his head. "Arthur's _friends_ with a maid? That's impossible."

Morgana laughed. "I think not. She's quite a sweet girl, Uncle, that Gwen. Merlin too is fond of her."

"Yes, but Merlin's friendly with anyone. This is Arthur we're talking about here."

Morgana looked around the room as if she was embarrassed. "Uncle, I'm not one for gossip."

"It's not gossip Morgana, I'm just curious about this Gibson girl. I hear so much about our other staff…but never about her."

"Okay," Morgana shifted in her seat, flipping her hair as she thought of the appropriate words. "Gwen, she's a simple and gentle soul. She's shy, but it's quite endearing. And she can be comical at times. I don't know anyone who wouldn't enjoy her company."

"You speak fondly of her too. This girl must be something," Uther said with a chuckle. "But I'm sure that calling her and Arthur 'friends' is a bit of a stretch."

Morgana watched her uncle silently, letting the conversation die there.

* * *

><p>Arthur sat silently in his car, looking at his watch for the hundredth time. In the time that he had been waiting, he had brushed his hair, flossed his teeth, and made sure the passenger seat was clean. Even after all of that he was still waiting. Arthur looked around his surroundings, at the dense forest which was dotted with shades of red, orange, and yellow, wondering why anyone would build a road in the secluded spot.<p>

"Arthur," Gwen gasped, opening the passenger door. Arthur had been in such a daze, he hadn't noticed her walking up to the car. "I'm so sorry I'm late!"

"It's okay," he lied. "You're not too late."

"Is what I'm wearing okay? You didn't exactly tell me what we were doing…"

Arthur turned on the car, as he looked at Gwen's attire. "Yup, you should be fine."

"How far are we going, Arthur?"

"About forty minutes. If I drive fast enough, we'll be there by one thirty." Arthur looked straight ahead, pulling out of the road in the back woods. "And before you even ask, I'm not tellin' you where we're going."

"I wasn't gonna ask…"

"Yes you were. I just saved you the breath."

"What if you give me a hint? Just a little one, Arthur?"

"Nope. If I tell you, it sort of ruins the idea of a 'surprise'. Just sit back, look pretty, and keep me company, and before you know it, we'll be there."

"Alright. You sure do take surprises seriously."

"See, I hate surprises. I like to more or less know what's comin'." He stopped the car completely at a red stop sign, taking the time to look at Gwen. "But, I know that you love to be surprised, so I figured it's something tiny I could do for you."

"Arthur, nothing you do is tiny, especially for me."

Arthur smiled as the car began moving again. "If I'm gonna do something, I may as well go all out. I know you'd do the same. Plus, we hardly get to be alone, so when we are, I want it to be perfect."

"That was nearly poetic."

"It sounded sappy," Arthur chided himself. "We can forget I said that," he informed Gwen, embarrassed.

"You're not a sap, you're just…sweet," Gwen nodded as she found the right word to describe Arthur. "Yes, I'd say that's what you are."

"You're just saying that because you don't like to hurt anyone's feelings."

"No, it's true."

"Hmm…" Arthur said quietly, as if her was thinking whether or not he liked the description. "You know, no one's ever called me 'sweet' before, and you're probably the last."

Gwen laughed at Arthur's remark. "What do people usually say to you then?"

"Well, girls usually call me a stud—" he paused for Gwen's giggles. "Well not to my face at least, but word gets 'round. But give 'em some time, and they're usually calling me a bastard, and that's sometimes followed with a milkshake to the face, or a slap; your pick."

Gwen covered her mouth, as her eyes widened. "Oh my goodness, has that really happened to you before, Arthur?"

Arthur shrugged. "I deserved it. But what about you Guinevere; are you a milkshake or a back-hand kinda gal?"

Gwen laughed at the question. "I don't know Arthur! Neither!"

"Ah, you're no fun."

Gwen smiled, watching the landscape of the autumn colored leaves, and the rolling mountains in the distance. "I've never been his way before, even though it's so near to my house. I haven't really been anywhere, actually."

"Well, now that you have me, all that will change. I'll take you everywhere; we'll go to Italy, France, Tahiti—"

"Have you been to all of those places?"

"Not really, we only stayed in Tahiti for a week."

Gwen blinked; she was twenty, and had never left the state before. "Our experience is so different."

"Well now, it doesn't have to be. You can go to all of those places too."

"You make it sound so simple, Arthur."

"It is. There's nothing stopping us. Tomorrow, we could be in Brazil, if we wanted."

"But I like the south. I don't gotta go to Brazil to be happy."

"But it's nice…"

"Is flying scary? Like to be so high up in the air…"

"What, are you afraid of heights?"

"Not really, it's just the thought of flyin'…it's unnatural."

Arthur chuckled, looking at her again with a tight grin. "Wait, wait!" Arthur burst out quickly. He pointed towards Gwen's window at a green road sign. "Look Guinevere, that's where we're goin'."

Gwen read the sign out loud, turning to Arthur quickly. "Orangeburg?"

"What, Orangeburg?" Arthur turned in his seat confused, looking at the sign which was now in the distance. "No, Redmond Grove."

Gwen too turned in her seat, hoping she could catch another glimpse, but it was long gone. "Like…_the_ Redmond Grove?"

Arthur nodded. "Unless there's another, and I'm seriously confused."

Gwen's eyes fell to her lap, as she reasoned out loud. "But…how? Like how are we gonna be able to get in?"

"Did you forget? I'm Arthur _Pendragon_," Arthur stated simply, as if that explained it all.

Gwen laughed at the irony, sitting back in her seat. "Redmond Grove; you know that's probably like the most fabled area around here? Well at least for the colored folk, who only get to see it if they're cleain' someone's house."

"Well, now you can tell all your friends that you've been there." Arthur tapped his chin quickly. "…Or, maybe you shouldn't," Arthur corrected himself.

"So, what are we gonna do there?"

"Remember Gwen; 'surprise'?"

"Oh yeah, that."

"Cheer up, we'll be there soon."

Gwen nodded, reaching over to turn the dials on Arthur's radio to see if there was anything on. After a couple of minutes, she reclined in her seat, looking out the window. As they came to a stoplight, Arthur began to speak again.

"This morning, Morgana was interrogating me, trying to figure out where I was going."

"What did you say?"

"That it was none of her damn business."

"Arthur, you didn't!"

"I didn't actually say that, Gwen. Lately, she's been aggrivatin' me so much! I don't know what it is, but sometimes just being around her, or around her _and _Vivian, makes a man wanna smoke. But I can't."

"You can't smoke?" Gwen asked confused.

Arthur took his eyes off the road momentarily, looking at Gwen's puzzled expression. "I thought I told you? I quit smokin'…well, mostly."

Gwen smiled, clasping her hands together excitedly. "No, you never said anything. I'm so proud of you Arthur! I know how hard it can be to quit. Ray Neely, he used to smoke, and it took him a couple of tries to quit."

"Yeah, well I figured that if I was gonna be with you, I'd have to give up the cigs. I knew that the smoke irritated your throat, and you didn't like the smell of it. And having a girl gag any time you try to kiss or touch her is a recipe for disaster."

"I'm sure it is," Gwen said laughing. "Arthur, you are so thoughtful and kind, you're so hard on yourself, but I think you're an amazing person. Really I do."

"I can't help it when I'm with you."

"Well don't change, okay?"

"Got it."

* * *

><p>Gwen took Arthur's offered hand, which supported her as she stepped out of his red convertible. It was slightly windy, and Gwen had to take a moment to push the hair out of her face, so she could get a full view of the cabin Arthur had just pulled into.<p>

"My stars," Gwen whispered, dropping Arthur's hand as she moved closer to the home. She turned to Arthur who moved to stand next to her. "Arthur…this house is beautiful. It's so rustic, and gorgeous. It's like no other house I've ever seen before.

Arthur laughed, as he looked at the two story log cabin, which had a rustic exterior, but was filled with the most up-to-date necessities. "Yeah, it's one of my favorite properties. But wait till you Redmond's cliffs, and you look out at the waterfalls; you'll love it!"

Gwen put a hand to her heart, as she walked up the steps to the front door. "I still can't believe I'm in Redmond Grove."

"It's a pity we can only be here for the day," Arthur began, retrieving the house keys from his pocket. "The next time we come here, we have to stay longer. And I can show you everything." Moments later, the wooden door to the cabin swung open, and Arthur held his arm out, motioning for Gwen to go inside. She wandered in without hesitation, walking through the rooms on the bottom floor.

"Arthur, this house is so beautiful," Gwen yelled from the kitchen, as Arthur closed the front door. "I wish we could stay here longer too," she informed him, as she came back into full view.

"Well," Arthur began, holding Gwen's hips as she neared. "we can stay here tonight. Stay up talking 'til the morning as we drink the best wine. Go to bed just as the sun comes up…" Arthur couldn't help but laugh as Gwen giggled as his breath tickled her neck.

"Or we could spend the day here, and you could get me home at a decent hour so my Daddy doesn't kill me."

"Or that too…" Arthur conceded, kissing her softly on the cheek. He pushed some hair out of her face, one of his favorite things to do. "My parents built this house near the cliffs, which are less than a mile away. But feel free to do whatever, I need to go get some stuff that's in my room."

"Okay." Gwen took it upon herself to look about the living room, moving to the ornate fireplace, her attention caught by some photographs on the mantle. She loved looking at pictures of Arthur and his family; it made her feel closer to him. She picked up a small wooden frame, which surrounded a picture of a younger Uther and another man, holding a chubby blonde baby between them. Gwen silently looked at the picture, until Arthur came back into the room, holding a backpack. "This is you, right?" Gwen asked, her thumb flicking some dust off of the glass.

Arthur stood behind Gwen, looking over her shoulder, laughing as he saw the picture. "Yeah, that's me at like two. Remember I said I was super chubby until I was thirteen?"

Gwen nodded, smiling as she looked up at the thinner Arthur who pointed at the glass frame.

"Well, there's proof. And that's Morgana's Dad, Gordon."

Gwen looked closer at the faded colored photograph, at Morgana's father. His hair too was dark, and Morgana definitely had his eyes. Gwen put the picture back on the mantle, taking down another one. "Oh my, your parents on their wedding day?"

Arthur nodded, zipping up the bag. "Yeah."

"Your dad looks so handsome," Gwen commented, nearly gasping at the black and white photograph.

"Yeah, he's so old now."

"No he's not," Gwen corrected him with a grin.

"I think so." Arthur pointed at his mother. "My father still has her wedding dress, you know. He got rid of most of her clothes, but he still keeps that dress in his closet. It's never been washed or anything."

Gwen looked at Arthur, still holding onto the frame. "That's so sad," was the only thing she could muster.

"It's been twenty-two years; we all find ways to cope."

Gwen figured that Arthur wouldn't want to dwell on his mother, so she pointed at the backpack he had just thrown over his shoulder. "What's that for?"

"Just some stuff we'll need for our little hike. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go."

* * *

><p>As Merlin jogged up the steps of the Pendragon Estate, he looked to his left, grimacing at his terrible parking job. All of his attention was focused on his slanted car, nearly causing him to run into Uther's chauffer who was jogging down the steps in the opposite direction, nearly colliding with Merlin.<p>

"Hey Merlin, how goes it?" Clarence asked, stopping quickly.

"It goes," Merlin laughed. He continued up the stairs, before Clarence called for him at the bottom of the steps.

"Hey Merlin, would you do me a blessin'?" The tall man asked, reaching into his breast pocket, retrieving a letter. "I'm fixin' to take Mr. Pendragon to a meeting, and I done forgot to give this to Ms. Morgana, but she just left the house. Would you mind droppin' this somewhere in her room for me?"

Merlin quickly looked down at the white envelope, then back at the chauffer. "Of course," Merlin agreed, taking the letter.

"Thanks!" Clarence exclaimed, jogging to Uther's black town car.

Merlin simply nodded, turning to walk up the remainder of the steps. As another servant opened the front door for him, Merlin looked down at the crisp letter, to the top right corner where he saw a couple of first class stamps. His curiosity heightened, turning his attention to the left corner, where a pristine letter head in rolling cursive neatly read "The Adamson School". Merlin stopped in his tracks, in the middle of the foyer, as he read the title again out loud. Silently he read the subtitle, his light eyes narrowing, for he was sure he was misreading the cursive type.

Merlin made his way up the spiral staircase towards Arthur's room, as he wondered why the Adamson School would be sending a letter to Morgana Pendragon; she had no business with them. Actually, Merlin wasn't so sure, because it seemed that every day, he learned something new about her.

Pushing open Arthur's unlocked bedroom door, Merlin walked directly to his neat desk, where he immediately spotted the book he had leant Arthur a couple of days ago, and the reason for his quick visit. For a moment, his mind drifted from the peculiar letter to Arthur and Gwen, wondering what they were doing that very moment. Merlin laughed in Arthur's face when he had informed Merlin of his intentions two weeks ago, for he was sure his friend would not be able to pull off an all day excursion without some sort of hiccup. But Merlin had no reason to doubt that Arthur hadn't been successful, for he hadn't returned yet; he was glad.

Spending time with Gwen always made Arthur so happy, and he knew that Arthur was completely beside himself at the prospect of spending the entire day with her. Merlin thought on how joyful and vibrant Arthur had become, and wondered why on earth Morgana, someone who was supposed to love him, wanted to destroy such a thing. Merlin actually knew the answer, for he read it for himself weeks ago when he read Morgana's nauseating catalogue of deceit. Merlin had concluded that Morgana was simply selfish. She knew how Arthur felt, but she wasn't willing to afford her social standing or comfort for the "two lovebirds". Recalling Morgana's private thoughts still made Merlin a little queasy, even after all this time.

Merlin threw his thick book on Arthur's bed, placed Morgana's peculiar letter in the pocket of his jacket, and quickly opened Arthur's door, checking the hall way for any movement. A couple of chatting maids passed by Merlin quietly, giving him a nod of acknowledgement as they disappeared down the staircase. Merlin waited for a little longer, only venturing across the hall when he was certain that there was no one nearby.

He quickly stepped into Morgana's room, closing the heavy door behind him, which creaked as he did so. Merlin looked at the loud hinges, cracking the door open slightly, so he could hear if anyone was coming. Turning from the door, Merlin nearly gasped as he looked upon Morgana's extremely messy room. Clothes were strewn about on her bed, and floor, making Merlin wonder if there was anything left in her closet. The wooden vanity in front of Morgana's mirror was littered with an array of brushes and ribbons, some lying nearby on the floor. Judging by the state of the room, Merlin concluded that wherever Morgana was off to, she was in a hurry. He just hoped it wasn't to spy on Arthur and Gwen.

Merlin still wished that the part of the Morgana Pendragon whom he had grown to love was still there, perhaps just a little hidden by her new personality…but he was quickly losing hope. Just by paying more attention to her, from her body language to her mere choice of words, Merlin was becoming fully convinced that the monster who narrated her journal entries was indeed consuming beautiful and once friendly Morgana.

Merlin moved to the messy vanity, easily finding a bobby pin amidst the disorder. He stretched it out as he took a seat on Morgana's large bed, not bothering to push aside the clothing which sat atop the bed. With haste, he pulled out the drawer which contained the ornate and locked diary, opening it yet again with ease. As his cool and slender fingers grasped the tiny lock, he heard Morgana's bedroom door creak open.

"You just left, didn't you Morgana?" Merlin heard Stella ask in her distinctive and maternal voice from the hallway.

"I know, but I was in such a hurry, that I forgot my purse. I think I left it in my room."

Merlin didn't even wait for Morgana to finish her explanation before he sprang up, locking Morgana's diary, and placing it back in its designated drawer. Merlin sent up a prayer of thanks that Morgana's room was so large, so by the time she had reached to the portion of her quarters where she actually slept, Merlin was standing by the front of her bed, the letter from the Adamson School in hand.

Morgana laughed as she walked toward her vanity, stopping cold in her tracks as she saw Merlin standing in front of her bed. For once, she did little to mask her emotions, for her surprise was apparent as her neck craned backwards in astonishment. She pushed her curled hair behind her ear, made a quick glance to her bedside table; the quick gesture didn't go unnoticed by Merlin.

"Merlin…what are you doin'?

Merlin had to take a moment before he could respond, afraid that Morgana's sharp senses would detect his lies through the shakiness in his voice. "Sorry I just barged in,"

Morgana slowly raised an eyebrow, no doubt carefully analyzing him.

"But this came for you; Clarence was in a hurry and sent me to deliver it."

Morgana took the letter, her eyes still on Merlin, never straying to the letter. "You do know Arthur isn't here, right? And neither is Gwen."

Merlin waved his hand. "I know. I came to pick up a book that I lent him."

"Oh," Morgana finally looked down at the letter, looking back at Merlin moments later, not the least bit surprised by the piece of mail. "Thanks, for this Merlin."

Merlin smiled. "Of course," he looked at his watch. "I better get going. My parents are coming home from their cruise today."

"Oh that's wonderful. Tell them I said 'hello', will ya?"

"Sure, bye Morgana!" Merlin sauntered as coolly as possibly out of the room, so he never noticed Morgana's silent wave. Nor did he stay to watch her retrieve her wallet from the top of her bed, where she noticed a dent in one of her dresses on the edge of her bed. Dropping her wallet, Morgana moved to the indent, where it was obvious that someone had been sitting. And to the right, on her bedside table, Morgana gingerly picked up a straightened black bobby pin, twisting it in examination.

* * *

><p>"Arthur, let's go back. While there's still light out, let's go back," Gwen tried to convince Arthur, as he opened the door to the cabin.<p>

"We'll come back Guinevere, I promise. But aren't you hungry?"

Gwen looked out at the sun which would soon be retreating in the horizon, wishing that she and Arthur were back at Redmond Cliffs, at the peak, looking over the lush valley, and the nearby waterfalls. She wished that she could relive that moment over and over again, but Arthur persuaded her to walk down with him, for it but it was nearly four o'clock, and he had other things planned for her. She couldn't complain though, as nice as the view was from the peak, the warmth of the cabin was welcomed, as Arthur quickly shut the door.

"Actually, I am hungry. Are we going somewhere?"

"Going somewhere? No," Arthur replied dropping his backpack on the couch. He stopped, turning to look at Gwen, his blue eyes filled with excitement. "No, I'm gonna cook for you."

Gwen's eyes narrowed and her eyebrows came together, wondering if maybe the high air pressure was blocking her hearing. "You're gonna do what, now?"

Arthur shook his head, guiding Gwen to the kitchen by the small of her back. "I'm going to prepare a meal for you, Guinevere, and it's gonna be the best thing you've ever had!"

Gwen put a hand to her chest, her words quickly falling from her lips. "Oh Arthur, you really do too much for me. Let me cook _you _dinner—" Gwen paused as Arthur pulled out a stool for her to sit on, patting it loudly.

"You don't think I can do it, can you?" He asked, folding his arms over his chest with a grin.

"No, of course you can."

"You don't have to worry about hurting my feelings. Now, I'm no master chef, but I think I can prepare a simple meal for my girl."

"You're girl?" Gwen asked watching Arthur open the refrigerator.

"Or whatever you want to call yourself. But, don't go on and have a heart attack now, I'm not seasoning anything. I think I can handle some sautéing, and putting a small chicken in the oven. I got someone to do the hard stuff for me."

Gwen laughed. "Let's just not set the house on fire, okay?" She watched Arthur stand over the stove, staring at its various knobs like it was a complex math equation. Gwen stood from the seat Arthur had pulled out for her, resting a hand on his arm, swallowing a giggle. "Arthur, do you know how to turn the oven on?"

"Yeah…maybe you could help me a little?" He asked, grinning. "I am a little hopeless in the kitchen…"

"I like the idea of you cooking though. Maybe I should teach you," Gwen joked, moving to the large sink to wash her hands.

Arthur took out some green beans from the refrigerator, still speaking to Gwen though his back was to her. "So what did you think about today?"

"It was amazing Arthur, I really loved it."

Arthur closed the refrigerator door, reaching for a pot from the hanging display. "I was nervous, because I've never taken anyone up there before, and I wasn't sure if you were a nature kinda gal," he admitted.

"To an extent I am, but you'd have to be a rock to not be moved by something so beautiful. Hey, don't forget to wash those," she reminded him, pointing to the beans. "How long have y'all had this cabin for?"

"My parents had it made as soon as they got married, and it took a year to build. Then they had me five years later…so wow. I guess it's been in the family for twenty seven or eight years. We hardly come here though. We frequent our lake house on Lake Austin, or beach home on Myrtle Beach."

"You know, I could count on one hand the number of people I know who own their own homes. And you have like…five?"

"Ahh…give or take."

"Give or take?" Gwen nearly squealed.

Arthur put the wet beans in a bowl, smiling at Gwen's shock. He watched her examine the chicken before putting it in the oven, and he realized that the thought of doing this with her every night actually didn't terrify him.

* * *

><p>Elliot and Tom rounded their street corner, leaving their familiar bus stop in the distance. The sun was finally beginning to set, and the nip of the wind whipped at their cheeks, as the two men stuffed their fists into the pocket of their jackets. Silently, they passed the two charred lots which once belonged to the Neely's and Ol' Bess, an event that seemed to be so far in the past.<p>

"When they gon' fix up those houses again? Have you heard anythin' 'bout that?" Tom asked his son, looking at the brown grass and large beams of burnt wood; the sole remnants of the two homes. Shoots of green vegetation were beginning to spring up through the scorched earth, making the two plots appear even more deserted.

"Nope, I aint heard nothin'," Elliot finally responded.

Tom scoffed, kicking a stone out of his path. "Boy, I'll tell ya…I reckon they'll sit there 'til the good Lord comes back."

"Probably. Mayor Alaine won't fix anything 'til he's got a full scale revolt on his hands. Those houses are as forgotten as the five crackers who came here and torched 'em. And with Congressman Tate resigning, the Mayor probably won't want to kick up even more scandal for him."

Tom shook his head, as he and Elliot waited on the sidewalk for a car to pass. "What is the world comin' to son?"

Elliot shrugged his shoulders, as he and his father walked across the street. Despite the slight chill which was the Southern fall season, children were double-dutching on the sidewalk, skipping on chalk hop scotch tiles, and playing four-square on the sidewalk. Tom sullenly looked at the neighborhood's youth, wondering 'who was next'.

"I'll tell ya: in my day, no one would even _think_ of such calamity occurin', all over some Negro and a white woman." Tom let out a whistle. "No sir, there'd sure 'nough be a lynching. Folks from my time knew better."

Elliot chuckled despite Tom's serious words, as he took the house keys out of his pocket. "Most of us today know better too, Pop."

Tom shook his head. "I don't know. I mean, you and you're sister; y'all have got two good heads on you. I know neither of you would go fooling 'round with no crackers."

Elliot began to twist the knob of his front door, before he froze at his father's words.

"Now, I'm not sayin' Ray deserved it, 'cause the Neely's were good people, but this is what happens. Burned down houses, beatings, pregnant white girls, movin' your family to _Chicago_!" Tom sighed as he brushed past Elliot, walking into his darkened home. Tom continued his rant as he shrugged off his jacket. "I do declare: my only prayer is that the good Lord'll keep—" Tom paused, looking at Elliot who stood still by the door, his dark hand clenched on the door knob. "Are you comin' in, Elliot?"

Elliot blinked a couple of times, his throat going dry. Every time his father got started on the dangers of interracial mixing, or association, Elliot felt guilty and rotten to the core. He had been lying to him all of this time, concealing the fact that his beloved daughter and blessed angel, Guinevere Louise, was indeed sneaking off to do the very things which Tom found so disgraceful. Elliot may have charged at Arthur like a roaring bull, but deep down, he couldn't attack his sister in the same way. He knew that if Tom ever received even the slightest hint that Gwen was with Arthur, all hell would break loose in his house, and there would be no way to fix it.

Elliot just hoped that if he maintained his silence, Gwen would figure things out on her own; she wasn't dumb. She'd realize that a tryst with Arthur was all she could have, and she'd eventually want more. That sole hope spurred Elliot's silence, forcing him to be tight lipped whenever his father lamented on the distant Neely family, or the disgraced Tate clan.

"I mean just look. From time I was this high," Tom hovered his hand a couple of feet off of the ground, "the Tates had been runnin' things 'round here. And now, the Congressman's daughter is pregnant with a mixed sucker, and her lover had to flee on yonder, beaten and battered."

Elliot too took off his jacket, sighing at his father's speech. "Pop, I done heard this spiel near a hundred times now; don't you think I get it?"

"I know you do, these kinda things, they just heat me up proper. You know that." Tom sighed again, resting his large hands on his hips, until he looked up quickly at Elliot. "Where's Gwen at?" Tom asked alarmed, just realizing that his daughter was missing.

"Remember? She's spendin' the day with some friends."

"Oh yeah, she was rushin' us out of the house something fierce this morning."

Elliot acknowledged his father's memory with a silent "mhmm".

"Which friend, again?"

Elliot paused, taking a glass down from the cupboard to get a drink of water. "She told me earlier, but I done forgot. She'll be back at a decent hour though, don't worry."

Tom sat down at his small table rubbing his temples. "I aint worried, Gwen's a good girl."

Elliot sat across from his father, silently sipping his water. He didn't have the heart, nor will power to continue the conversation.

* * *

><p>Arthur held two records in his hands, as Gwen watched amused from the table. Arthur looked back and forth at the two records, as if he was making the decision of a lifetime.<p>

"Arthur, really, anything's fine. Put on what_ you_ want!"

Arthur whistled as he found another record on the shelf. "Hey look! We have a Johnny Ray record. You like him, don't you?" Arthur asked, taking the vinyl record out of its sleeve.

"Yeah, put that on."

"You know, Merlin and I saw him in concert last year? Front row seats…well, we were standin', really."

"Your daddy let you go to a Johnny Ray concert?" Gwen asked skeptically.

Arthur turned to Gwen with a sheepish grin. "Oh, hell no. He thinks Johnny Ray sings the devils' music. That concert can be our little secret."

Gwen laughed sweetly, as she picked up her plate, reaching for Arthur's as well. "Let's add it to the list!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa: what do you think you're doin' with those dishes?" Arthur asked, standing straight.

"Uhh…cleanin'," Gwen responded simply, figuring it was a dumb question as she walked towards the kitchen. "You made me an amazing meal, and it's only fair that I clean up."

Arthur caught up with Gwen in the kitchen, as the first song on the record began to fill the living room, drifting into the kitchen. Arthur took the plates from her, and placed them in the sink. "You're not a maid here, Guinevere," he assured her.

"I know. I'm not— "

"This is your day off, and you deserve it. You work so hard, so this is my gift to you; a day where you don't have to worry about anything, _especially_ cleaning."

Gwen touched Arthur's cheek, smiling at his words. "Arthur, you're always so kind to me. You've done so much, I don't even know where to begin to say thank you."

"You don't," Arthur explained, guiding Gwen back to the living room, where the music was slightly louder. "I don't need any thanks," Arthur assured her as he sat on the couch, patting the seat next to him. "I like seeing you happy, that's all," Arthur said with a shrug.

"That's so simple," Gwen said laughing.

"But it is so simple, that's the thing. You, plus me equals awesome."

"Equals awesome?" Gwen asked with a chuckle, pushing some of Arthur's blonde hair aside.

"Exactly."

"Arthur, sometimes, I feel like you give me so much, but I come up short," Gwen admitted.

Arthur frowned, as Gwen's cool finger tips brushed his forehead. "Don't say that. It's not true."

"I mean, you've given me picnics, and jewelry, and secret getaways…"

Arthur stopped Gwen's hand which glided through his hair, holding it in his lap. "I want to do those things for you."

"I know."

Arthur looked Gwen in the eye, swallowing before he spoke again. His gaze quickly fell to her legs which she had crossed on the couch, her feet on the ground. "I do these things because I love you, Guinevere." Arthur looked up, looking into Gwen's eyes, curious to see whether he had scared her or not.

Gwen blinked once, swallowing herself. She opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again. "You…love _me_?" She asked pointing to her chest.

"Does it frighten you?" Arthur asked, tilting this head.

"No one's ever said that to me before," Gwen said gasping quickly and sharply, ignoring the question. She put a hand to her chest, looking at Arthur quickly. "Sorry, it's…whoa," was all Gwen could muster.

"I just thought…you should know, if you didn't already," Arthur said quietly.

Gwen took a deep breath, looking at Arthur's hand which held hers tightly. "I love you too Arthur."

Arthur couldn't help himself, as he leaned in closer to Gwen, taking her face in his hands, and bringing it closer his. "And what if I told you that knowing that frightens _me_?" Arthur whispered, Gwen's nose tickling his.

"Why should it?"

"I don't have the best track record."

"I know Arthur, but that doesn't change the way I feel about you. I trust you nonetheless."

"I don't want to hurt you Guinevere. I want to give you everything."

Gwen leaned forward, finally kissing Arthur, certain that nothing else needed to be said.

* * *

><p>Arthur pulled Gwen in for one last kiss, before she pulled away, her hand resting on the car door. "Arthur, I've really gotta go now," she giggled.<p>

"No, you don't…" He said hazily.

Gwen gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, as her hand brushed his jaw. "Arthur I loved every moment of today, but I bet Elliot and Daddy are formin' a search party as we speak."

"Okay, okay, you're right. Tell Elliot I said 'hi'!" Arthur joked as Gwen shook her head, stepping out of the car, quietly closing the door. She waved to him outside through the window, pulling her jacket tightly around her. Arthur too waved, speeding off moments later.

Gwen stood, watching the red lights of Arthur's convertible grow smaller and smaller, until they finally disappeared.

From the wooded area, Gwen could easily see her fully illuminated home. All of the shades were drawn, completely obscuring her view. Under the moon light, she checked her watch: seven on the dot. Not bad timing at all.

She shuffled through the dry leaves and twigs as quickly as her little feet could take her, to the back door of her home, which was never locked. Silently and quickly, she opened and closed the door, the warmth of her home immediately sending shivers up her spine, as she heard the hushed voices of her father and brother float from the living room.

"Hush boy!" Tom chided Elliot. "I think I heard her come in."

"You didn't hear nothin' Pop. She probably aint fixin' to come home for another thirty minutes."

"What on God's green earth could she be doin' that late?"

Gwen took off her jacket, listening to her brother and father squabble as usual, thoroughly amused.

"You know how girls are, when they get together, they always lose track of time. Aint that right—"

"Elliot, I'm tellin' you; I think she's home."

"Bout time, we been waitin' forever."

Gwen cleared her throat, finally speaking up. "Y'all were waitin' up for me?"

"Bout time, we been waitin' forever," Elliot scoffed.

Gwen stopped by her room, tossin her jacket on her bed. Her ears picked up on more hoarse whispering, and shuffling in the room as she approached. "What are y'all doin'?" Gwen asked with a smile, finally walking to the threshold of the living room.

She found her brother and father standing awkwardly with their hands in their pockets, each flanking—

"Lorenzo?" Gwen asked, her soft brown eyes widening to saucers.

Tom grinned, looking at his daughter, whose arms fell limp to her side. "Surprise!"

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired by: "An Endless Serenade" by Hopes Die Last<em>


	20. Chapter 20

_Wohoo! Long chapter! Oh my goodness…Chapter 20! _

_Hello lovely readers, I hope all of you are enjoying season 4 of Merlin as much as I am, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well! Some questions are finally answered (yay!) and new ones arise (dun, dun, dun!). _

_So leave a comment, and let me know what you thought of this chapter/predictions. Also, don't forget to add me to the story alert so you don't have to wait to read Chapter 21! _

_YoureAnIllusion_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20: Have Faith in Me<strong>

Gwen stood at the threshold of her living room, trying to reconcile the fact that Lorenzo was standing in her home, hundreds of miles away from where he was meant to be; in New York City. Gwen's gaze immediately fell to the large white cast around Lorenzo's his left foot, afterward, noticing the wooden crutches which he leaned on. Dark stubble dotted his jaw, accompanying his longer hair which was partly brushed to the side.

Elliot looked nervously at his mute sister, then back to the injured boxer to his left, who too was silent, each ogling the other. "Dang y'all…you aint gonna say nothin'?" Elliot finally interrupted the silence.

"Hi Gwen," Lorenzo said simply, with a small smile, his voice soft and kind; just as she had remembered.

Despite his greeting, Gwen couldn't compel herself to move, and it took her a moment or two to develop a coherent sentence. "Lorenzo…I can't believe you're really here."

"Me neither. But I don't think either of us saw this coming," he pointed to the large cast on his left foot with a smile. "It kind of disrupted my two year contract. Three days after I wrote you my last letter, I fell backward in a fight; breaking my ankle. I had been recovering since then, but my coach let me come back home for my full recovery, seen as I'm no use up in New York until I'm recovered."

Gwen's hand slowly came up to cover her mouth; her full attention on Lorenzo's cast. "Will you be able to fight again?" She whispered, meeting his soft brown eyes once again.

"Don't worry Gwen. In several months, with physical therapy, and some doctor visits, I'll be okay. All my expenses are being paid for by the gym. My coach is keeping my contract, so everything's okay, I promise. I just thought it best to come back down here, to be with my loved ones while I recover; I miss everyone so much.'

Gwen finally took a step toward Lorenzo, finally noticing a couple of bruises on his forehead, and scrapes on his chin. His knuckles were scraped up as well; he definitely looked like a boxer in training. "Lorenzo, I'm so glad you're back! Things have been so different without you here," she exclaimed, giving him a hug. Gwen soon realized however that Lorenzo couldn't exactly reciprocate the gesture, for he had to cling onto his crutches. Quickly, she let go, taking a step back. "Oh yeah, sorry."

Tom smirked slightly as he watched his daughter, turning to Elliot who watched the two with folded arms, and his face rather expressionless. "Elliot and I are gonna go listen to the radio in the kitchen. Just give us a holler on your way out Lorenzo," Tom said, moving toward the kitchen. He stopped, to give Lorenzo a brief wave. "Glad to have you back."

"Me too," Elliot chimed in.

"It's good to be back. Thank you for letting me stop by."

Tom nodded, disappearing from view as he and his son sat at their round kitchen table, turning on the radio moments later.

Gwen and Lorenzo looked at each other, neither sure what was the appropriate thing to say in the situation. "Please, sit Lorenzo," Gwen quickly offered, taking a seat on the couch, with Lorenzo joining her as he set his crutches against the wall slowly.

"So…I take it you're surprised, Gwen?" He asked with his familiar radiant smile.

"I'm not sure surprised even conveys it. Lorenzo…you're not supposed to be back here for another year, at least."

Lorenzo shrugged as he lifted up slightly, to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket. "Well, plans change, or adjust. Honestly, I'm happy I'm out of the city, even if it's only for a little while. I finally feel like I can breathe, it feels so good to be home!" He exclaimed laughing.

"The city must not have been too bad, you look well. You've gotten bigger."

Lorenzo looked down at his stomach, than quickly back at Gwen. "Like…fatter?"

"No!" Gwen giggled. "Are you kidding me? I meant muscle," she said tapping his arms.

Lorenzo laughed, embarrassed. "Oh, thanks."

Gwen nodded as she moved a little bit closer to him. "What's that you have there?"

"They're some pictures I took. You don't have to look at them if you don't want to."

"No, oh my goodness, that's exactly what I want to see!"

Lorenzo looked into Gwen's soft brown eyes which illuminated with excitement as he took out the first picture, handing it to her. "I know how much you like pictures, so I took a lot, for you."

Gwen simply looked at Lorenzo with a smile, the gesture small, but thoughtful. It was good to have him back.

* * *

><p>"Elliot!" Gwen screeched shrilly, jumping when she found her brother watching her prepare for the day through her open door. "Golly, why are you watchin' me?" She asked, this time more annoyed than scared.<p>

"I just came to fetch you…Lorenzo's here?"

Gwen looked in her mirror. "Oh yeah, he's drivin' me into work because Alice is sick. Has he been there long?"

"No he just pulled up."

Gwen mumbled to herself the things she must not forget, as she scurried to the other side of her room, picking up her purse. She felt Elliot watching her from behind, not moving from his original spot. "Do you need something, Elliot?" Gwen asked putting her purse over her shoulder.

Elliot closed Gwen's door softly, turning to look at her directly in the eye. "Gwen, what are you doing?"

Gwen's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? I'm_ tryin'_ to go to work…"

Elliot just looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"What? Is that the wrong answer?"

"I meant with Lorenzo. He's been here every other day, and now he's driving you into work…what happened to your little white boy? Are y'all two through? Now don't get me wrong, I'm not complainin' if that did happen…"

"No, Elliot. _Arthur _and I are as happy as ever, and I've told you that I don't appreciate you callin' him 'white boy', or 'cracker', he has a name."

"Okay, so you're still with him then?"

"Didn't you just hear me?"

"So then what's Lorenzo doing driving you to work? Don't you think you're leading him on?" Elliot finally said it, digging his hands into his pockets.

Gwen actually began to laugh. "Elliot, I'm not leading him on. In case you haven't noticed, neither me nor Lorenzo have many friends, he's just a companion."

"…Gwen, I think he still likes you. And he's a good guy, I'm not sure that you spendin' so much time with him is a good idea."

Gwen shook her head vigorously. "Lorenzo and I already settled this. We agreed to be mere friends before he left for New York."

Elliot took a step back, not expecting the response. "Really?"

"Yes."

Elliot sighed. "Okay, I just don't want Lorenzo to get dragged into the mess with you and your white—Arthur, like I did. He's a good guy, and if y'all are just friends; well he's a good friend too."

Gwen smiled, moving to give her brother a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for looking out for me though Elliot, I know you mean well," she said with a smile, opening her bedroom door. "I don't want to keep Lorenzo waiting; we can talk later, if you like."

"Wait, wait, one more thing."

Gwen nodded, stepping back into her room, as her brother lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper.

"Lorenzo's been around for a week now, how's Arthur taking it?"

Gwen pushed her bag back on her shoulder. "He doesn't know."

Elliot's head bobbed forward, as he turned his head, obviously skeptical. "What? You mean that you haven't told him? He doesn't he know that you're ex-boyfriends is back in town, and y'all are spendin' every waking moment together!"

Gwen hit Elliot's shoulder. "Stop bein' so loud, or Daddy'll hear you!" Gwen hissed.

"Stop dodgin' the question!"

"I'm not. Arthur knows about Lorenzo but, he'll be worried if he knows he's back. And I'm not fixin' to throw away a good friend because of my jealous boyfriend." Gwen rubbed her forehead. "Don't worry, I'll…tell him, but I just don't know how."

"That sounds like a bad plan to me."

"I think I know Arthur a little better than you, Elliot. But I've gotta go before I'm late."

Elliot reluctantly nodded, waving to his sister before she hurried out of the front door, nearly running to Lorenzo's car to escape the frosty weather. Elliot moved to his kitchen window where he had full view of the sidewalk, watching their interaction the best he could.

* * *

><p>"Damn it!" Arthur yelped, as his head slammed against the underside of the dining room table, as he straightened quickly from tying his shoe. "Ahh, shit," he hissed, rubbing his head where he knew a bump would develop later.<p>

Stella's head popped out of the kitchen, her gaze immediately fixing on Arthur in a stern expression. "Excuse me, Arthur? 'Cause I thought I heard cussin'."

"Sorry, I uhh, hit my head," Arthur groaned.

Stella gave him an unconvinced once over, "Mhmm…I don't wanna hear it again, though."

"Hey, wait up!" He called after her, following her to the kitchen, where she and Marge stood washing the dishes from the family's breakfast. Arthur leaned over the counter, taking an apple from the fruit basket, rubbing it against his shirt, as he grinned at Stella. "You know, I've been thinkin'; you still treat e like a little kid."

"What if you still act like one?" Stella asked with a playful smile, listing to the loud crunch of Arthur biting out of his apple.

"I do not!"

Stella shrugged. "You're gettin' better Arthur."

"Why, thank you—hey, where's Alice?" Arthur paused, turning around to view the entire kitchen. "She's always in here."

Marge turned to Arthur, answering his question with a frown. "Poor thing's been struck with the flu, if you can believe it. She'll probably be out the whole week."

"Hmm," Arthur responded, taking another bite of his apple, before stopping. "But, what about Guinevere, don't they ride in together?"

Marge gave Arthur a puzzled look. "Guinevere? I aint heard anyone call her that since her mama passed."

"I meant Gwen, sorry," Arthur said a little impatiently, just wanting an answer.

"Hmm…I don't know how she's gettin' here, actually. Probably her brother."

Arthur nodded, looking down at his apple, only to find Stella's analytical eyes boring a hole into the top of his head. "What?" He asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

Stella shook her head as she picked up a wet silver pot, drying it off with a dish towel. "I didn't know you were keepin' roll of all of the maids, that's all."

"I'm not. It's just— I noticed Alice and Gwen weren't here. That's all."

Marge turned to Stella, her full lips curving into a grin. "Or maybe Gwen's sleepin' in...if you know what I mean, Stella," Marge cackled, only to be met with a dense silence.

Stella rolled her eyes, setting the dry pot on the stove. "Hush up Marge, and stop spreadin' rumors."

"It was just a joke, y'all need to quit bein' so dang tense."

"That girl's a lamb, so you need to stop being so crass, for once."

Marge snorted happily. "I wouldn't blame her though if that _was _what she was doin' right now."

"Marge…" Stella's voice trailed off, clearly a warning.

Arthur's head swiveled back and forth, looking at each woman as she spoke. "Sorry, but I missed the joke."

Stella looked at Arthur, gritting her teeth as she glared at Marge, and then motioned back toward Arthur. "See what you done now? She what your big mouth up and did?"

Marge clucked her tongue, dismissing Stella with a quick wave of the hand. "She's just cranky."

Arthur couldn't help but snicker.

"Nah, I was just sayin' that maybe Gwen won't be comin' in for work today, 'cause she's playin' hookey with her little Mexican boy toy."

"He aint Mexican, Marge," Stella corrected, as if it were important. She felt it had to be said; if Gwen was there, that's what she would have said too.

Arthur paused mid-bite into his apple, wondering if he had heard the chatty maid correctly...Mexican boy toy? He cleared his throat gruffly. "Mexican boy toy?"

Marge jumped at the chance to elaborate, her voice taking on a higher pitch, and her words becoming slightly jumbled in excitement. "Darn tootin'! Remember that cute and tan fella who stopped by here one afternoon in the summer?"

Arthur remained still, standing next to Stella who had a scowl frozen onto her face.

"Well," Marge began again, clearing her throat. "That guy was Gwen's boyfriend. I reckon his name's Lorenzo…or was it Louís?" Marge tapped her chin as she looked up at the ceiling for a few moments, then snapping her fingers as she remembered. "Wait, wait, it was Lorenzo."

"Oh really?"Arthur said, his head tilting to the side. "You know, I really don't remember him."

Marge nearly howled. "Oh boy, I know_ all_ about him, Gwen couldn't quit talkin' bout him even if the poor girl tried—"

"Marge! Stop spreadin' the girl's business," Stella finally cut in, convinced that the conversation had gone far enough.

Marge ignored Stella, continuing without taking a second breath, looking directly at Arthur. "Well any way, he's back…actually, he's been back for a while now."

Arthur couldn't help but wince at the detail, his eyes narrowing. "Really?"

"Yeah, I've seen him in the neighborhood twice in the past week. Actually, now I think 'bout it, _he's_ probably drivin' Gwen into work."

Arthur bit down into his apple, shaking his head slightly.

"And—"

Marge was cut off by the slam of a wooden serving spoon against the marble countertop, and Stella's thing index finger thrust in her direction. "Marge, for the last time: if you don't put a sock _in it_, there's fixin' to be a problem."

"Okay, okay," Marge agreed putting her hands up, but Stella wasn't done.

"Now stop talkin' nonsense 'bout that girl. No one's skipping work to sneak around with no boy, so stop tellin' lies."

Arthur rested his elbows on the counter, scoffing gutturally. He bit into his apple with a quiet ferocity, his munching the only sound in the kitchen. "This guy," he began, addressing Marge, who watched him wide eyed, afraid to divulge any more details, "aint he supposed to be in New York?"

Marge raised a thin black brow, looking to Stella to see if it was safe to respond. "Yeah, he is…how'd you know that?"

Arthur could feel his face becoming red, and his overall body heat increasing, as the grip of his fingers threatened to squeeze the firm apple straight through the core. "And he's been here a _week_ now? And Guinevere's been with him since then?"

Marge's eyes narrowed in confusion, as she was almost afraid to answer Arthur's line of questioning; the conversation had taken on a very different tone. "Ah, shucks—"

Stella cut Marge off, looking directly at Arthur, but addressing her subordinate sternly. "Marge, would you give Arthur and me a minute by our lonesome?"

Marge blinked rapidly, looking back and forth between Arthur and Stella. She wasn't sure what it was exactly, but in the span of a few minutes, a dense tension had fallen upon the room, with Stella and Arthur facing off with the intensities of their gazes. Immediately, Marge became nervous, fiddling with her hands, and stuttering on the first words which came to mind. "Yeah, sure thing, Stella. I was just fixin' to go sweep the hallway anyhow…" Marge didn't even bother to finish her sentence, before speed-walking out of the kitchen, turning her head only once before disappearing completely from view.

Arthur straightened as Marge fled the room, throwing his apple into the garbage. He turned sharply to exit the kitchen without another word, but Stella's sharp words stopped him cold.

"Close them doors Arthur."

"Why?" He asked, with his back still to her, not wanting her to see the anger which was apparent on his face. Arthur was afraid that if he spent another moment confined in the kitchen, he'd erupt, and he just wanted to get out…get out and have a smoke. Nonetheless, he slowly, yet obediently, pulled in the heavy double doors of the kitchen, creating a sort of barricade.

He finally turned to look at Stella, who rested both hands on her hips, shaking her head before she began. He knew she too was upset, and was just trying to find the right words.

"Arthur, Arthur, Arthur: you've got _some_ nerve, boy," Stella said simply, throwing her drying rag on a nearby countertop.

"Sorry? I'm late for my classes Stella, I've gotta—"

"Arthur, I wasn't born yesterday; you may be able to fool Marge, but your act aint doin' _nothin' _for me."

"My 'act'?"

"Just stop," Stella demanded, holding both of her hands up, for Arthur's silence, which he granted her. "There's no one in this room you have to pretend for, okay?

"I'm not sure what you're talkin' 'bout…."

"You and Gwen Gibson," Stella blurted, crossing her arms over her chest. "How long have y'all been sleepin' with each other for?" Stella looked Arthur in the eye, daring him to lie. "If you're fixin' to tell a fib, you better remember what the Good Book says about liars, Arthur."

Arthur had to stop himself from staggering backward at Stella's bluntness. So she knew…of course she did. Stella knew _everything_, so Arthur wasn't sure what he could say exactly. And oh, she was mad. As Arthur contemplated his next words, he could hear Stella's foot tapping rapidly against the tile, her angry tick. He tried to pick his words carefully, but he found himself saying "we're not sleepin' with each other," instead.

Stella scoffed, opening the refrigerator door, only to close it a moment later. "Good God, that wasn't the answer I wanted."

"But it's the truth. Gwen and I have been seeing each other for months, but I haven't disrespected her in any way."

"Is that supposed to make everything okay, Arthur?" Stella snapped, her ferocity causing Arthur to wince ever so slightly. The frustrated maid put a hand over her forehead like a visor, as she paced a couple of steps, speaking in a hushed and hurried tone. "Oh Jesus, please don't let me act a fool right now, please," Stella stopped momentarily, only to pick up her nervous movement once again. "I knew it, I knew it, I _knew_ it, but I didn't wanna believe. But here he is, fessin' up to it Lord…" Stella stopped, finally looking to Arthur. "You know Arthur, you've done _a lot_ of bone headed things, a lot of bone headed things. But this takes the cake."

Arthur gulped nervously. "Give me the chance to explain."

Stella held up her hand, silencing him instantly yet again. She delivered her next words as if it physically pained her to do so. "Arthur…I'm so disappointed. Hell, I don't even know if I should be angry that you'd have enough nerve to sneak around with a colored girl under the noses of everyone who cares for you, or happy that at least it's a lamb like Gwen."

"She is a lamb—"

"Uhh, excuse me. I aint through yet."

Arthur closed his mouth quickly, swallowing his retorts as he let Stella finished venting.

"And let me just say; y'all two are doin' a real bang up job of hidin' your little…relationship. Maybe everyone else 'round here has gone half blind, but I aint, not yet at least. But I _knew _something wasn't right between you and that Gibson girl, by golly I knew it. But I didn't say nothin', I didn't want to start stuff. But I can't stay quiet any longer Arthur. Especially when I'm standing here, watching you twirl into a jealous fit over this Lorenzo boy."

Arthur scoffed, not wanting to talk about Lorenzo, and become angrier when he was just gaining control. "Stella, I know how bad this seems. But you don't expect me to yell "I love a poor colored maid!" from the rooftops, do you?"

"I _expect_ you to use some of that sense the Lord gave you, and maybe even some self control." Stella inhaled deeply, shaking her aching head. "Arthur, do you really know what you're gettin' into? I mean have you and that poor girl actually thought about what you're doin'? I've seen people get lynched for less."

"Stella, can I get some credit?"

"That's the last thing you'll be getting', right now."

"Yes, Gwen and I, we talk about the consequences all the time. Our heads aren't up in the clouds—"

"Sure fooled me," Stella scoffed.

Arthur ignored the interruption. "We talk about the possible dangers often, and we both decided that the other is too special to throw away because we're scared, or unsure."

Stella would have found the remark heartwarming, had it been made in any other situation. "Arthur, I hate to say it, but you aint the first white man to have a taste for nigger lovin'."

Arthur smacked his forehead, as his eyes narrowed in anger. "I didn't seek her out. I never imagined this happening in a thousand years." Arthur pointed to his chest. "Me, Arthur Lewis Pendragon, falling in love with a colored maid," he actually laughed out loud. "But it just…happened. She's the best gift I've ever gotten, Stella."

Stella took a step toward Arthur, looking deeply into his blue eyes which were crystal clear, and unblinking. She had known Arthur since birth tried her best to raise him in the absence of his father because of business. So it was an understatement to say that she had seen all of Arthur's tricks, and had even fallen for some. But this time, there was no deceit behind his words, or his eyes; he was completely and utterly honest. "Arthur, if you're not afraid for yourself, what about Gwen? What about her family? There's a reason why this stuff isn't done, especially down here. Y'all aren't in Chicago or New York, you remember that."

Arthur looked away, his voice becoming lower. "I think about it all the time. What if Father finds out, and does something terrible to her? Or Roger and his buffoons go back to—" Arthur cut himself off quickly, realizing that he almost slipped up in divulging too much information about the arson of the Neely home. "We're careful. That's really all I can say to that. Don't be mad with her Stella, it was I who pursued her. I was the one who saw her, and immediately I felt something. I made the first move, and she resisted, because she's so level headed. None of this is her fault. If you wanna find someone to blame, blame me."

Stella looked at Arthur, not sure what to say. Arthur had a history for passing the buck whenever he got in trouble, but he sure wasn't doing that now. "You really do love her, don't you?" Stella asked, her voice hardly above a whisper.

"With all my heart. She's my first, and I'm pretty sure she'll be my last."

Stella sighed. "Them are some serious words, Arthur."

"This entire thing is serious, Stella."

Stella took a seat on a nearby stool, rubbing her temples. "All of this drama is too much for an old woman to handle. My Arthur, takin' up with a colored…claimin' that he loves her; you don't see this every day."

"I'd marry her right now if I could. I—we don't care what everyone else thinks."

Stella actually began to laugh, holding onto her chest. "You may wanna slow your roll there, Arthur. I only need one heart attack at the time."

"…So you're not mad."

Stella ceased the laughter. "I didn't say that, now. I'm tellin' you this is a fool idea, not an original one, but fool nonetheless. But you're a man now, Arthur. I can't chide you anymore like a little child, even though I want to with everything that is within me." Stella sighed nostalgically. "I always knew that there'd come a time when I stepped back, and you had to live your life and your mistakes on your own. I think I've delayed it as long as possible."

Arthur didn't know what else to say but thank you, and that he wouldn't let her down again.

"I don't like this. I don't think it should be done. But you're not gonna listen to me. I can tell that you're mind is already made up."

"It is," Arthur confirmed with a nod. "I'll take whatever's comin'."

Stella sighed. "Well, at least let me say this Arthur, and hear me well as I say it."

"I'm listenin'."

"If I feel that you're puttin' Gwen's family in danger in any way, or vice versa; I'm singin' like a canary, you hear?"

"Fair enough. I think we need someone lookin' out for us."

"Oh Arthur," Stella sighed, standing and pulling him in for a hug which was immediately returned. "Please don't take anything I said the wrong way. I just don't wanna see you get hurt, and for y'all to end up like the Neely's and Tates; that's my biggest fear."

"I know Stella, it's okay. I understand why you were upset. I should have told you, I always value you your advice." Arthur stopped speaking, because he thought he heard Stella begin to sniffle.

* * *

><p>Vivian stuck her gloved hands inside of the pockets of her woolen jacket, tapping her cold feet impatiently. She checked her watch: 4:10 p.m., ten minutes waiting in the cold and damp weather for Morgana to arrive, and pick her. Vivian began grumbling out loud on the merits of punctuality and courtesy, her rant cut off nearly as soon as it started by the gruff voice ofRoger Davenport from behind.<p>

"Hey Viv," Roger beamed, standing next to the lonely blonde.

Vivian smiled politely at the curly red-head, not exactly wanting to be in his presence, but it was better than being cold and alone. "Hey Roger, long time no see."

He nodded with a grin. "Yeah, you're right."

Vivian nodded quietly in agreement, turning away as she heard the contents in Roger's pockets clink as he dug through them. Roger dug in his pockets for a cigarette.

"Whatchya doin' out here?"

"Oh, I'm waiting for someone, they should be here soon."

Roger placed a cigarette between his dry lips, lighting it, and speaking out of the side of his mouth in a garbled nature. "You aint waitin' for that prick Arthur, are you?"

Vivian narrowed her eyes immediately, rolling her tight shoulders backward. "He aint a prick, Roger."

"Sure seems like one to me."

"Grudges aren't good things to keep," Vivian said simply, looking Roger in the eye; she hoped that would shut him up, and maybe decide to leave her alone.

"I don't have a grudge. But there are certain things a man can't forget, nor forgive."

Vivian rolled her eyes, looking up into the gray sky, hoping it wouldn't rain just yet, and completely ruin her day. "That happened in the middle of summer, get over it, sheesh."

Roger let some smoke out of his nose, which nauseated the dainty blonde who could only tolerate it when Arthur smoked. "Why does everyone think that it was my fault? Do you even know the whole story Viv?"

"Boy, you sure do love to kick up old dirt," Vivian scoffed, glancing to her side to look at him. "I've heard all that I needed to about the incident, and I think it's safe to say that Arthur did the right thing."

Roger snorted. "Standing up for a colored broad? He's a pompous nigger lover."

Vivian looked at her watch again, wishing more than ever that Morgana would hurry up, and save her from further interaction with Roger. "Whatever you say Roger. Anyhow, I'm not even waiting for him; I'm waiting for Morgana."

"Hey; aint that her?" Roger pointed a thick finger across the street, where Morgana had indeed just parked, honking her horn once to catch Vivian's attention.

"Oh, I guess I'll catch you later Roger," Vivian said hurriedly, not even bothering to look back at him as she fled to Morgana's car. Quickly, she opened the door, shivering as she plopped down into the passenger seat with a thum.

"Sorry, I'm late. I kinda got tied up in some errands," Morgana explained, putting her car into park.

Vivian ignored the apology, reciting the lines which she had prepared ten minutes earlier in the cold. "You know they make things called 'watches' nowadays? I've been waitin' in the cold for ten minutes now! And then Roger decided he wanted to talk to me," Vivian groaned, remembering the other thing she wanted to ask Morgana. "And how come you weren't in classes today? Everyone's been asking for you."

Morgana reached into her back seat, pulling her purse to the front. "Didn't I just say that I was runnin' errands, Vivian? I'll catch up on whatever I missed soon enough," Morgana explained, rummaging through her full purse.

Vivian sighed, watching Morgana intently. "What are we doing here, exactly?"

"Business," Morgana said pulling out the envelope she was seeking. "It's about Arthur and Gwen."

Vivian huffed. "And why couldn't we do this at your house…where it's, oh, I don't know—warm!" Vivian exclaimed dramatically, rubbing her shoulders, and completely disregarding the letter Morgana was shoving in her direction.

Morgana retracted the piece of mail, tucking some hair behind her ear. "Yeah, about that…we may have a little problem on our hands, Viv."

"…What?"

"It's Merlin. I fear he knows something, perhaps too much."

Vivian violently turned in her seat, her eyes narrowing immediately. "About what? About us?"

"Yes. But wait, wait; don't get all dramatic _just _yet. I'm not completely sure yet, and I could just be paranoid. But it's just, it's just,—"

"Damn it Morgana, just spit it out!" Vivian asked stomping her foot in irritation.

Morgana took a deep breath, wondering where exactly to begin. "Last week, do you remember when you and I met for lunch?"

"Yeah, we went to our favorite restaurant."

"Right. But ten minutes after I left the house to meet you, I realized that I left my wallet at home, so I went back for it. But, guess who I found in my room, alone?"

Vivian's eyes narrowed as she hissed: "Merlin…"

"Sure thing," Morgana confirmed with a nod. "He claimed to be deliverin' this letter," Morgana held the envelope up. "But…something just wasn't right. After he left, it was obvious by the indent in my bed that someone had been sitting there not too long ago, and a straightened bobby pin was left on my bedside table, the same one where I keep my diary. Now this may sound like a stretch…but I wouldn't be surprised if Merlin tried to, or succeeded in picking the lock to my diary. I know he's capable of it."

"Shut your mouth!" Vivian exclaimed in disbelief.

"And the night of the Fall Ball, when I was trying to calm you down in the guest room, I got a gut feelin' that Merlin was eavesdropping."

Vivian covered her mouth which was totally agape. "He did appear out of nowhere, didn't he?"

"Exactly…and after that night, things haven't been the same."

"Well, what are we gonna do! By golly, he'll tell Arthur!"

"No, he won't; Merlin doesn't have the guts. And even if he did, Arthur wouldn't believe him."

"I never liked that big-eared twig anyhow," Vivian admitted, curling her lip.

Morgana ignored the comment, reasoning out loud. "If Merlin has indeed read my diary, then he probably has the wrong idea about this…little, operation?" She wasn't even sure what to call what she and Vivian were doing just yet. "Merlin's been so cold to me lately, and it was beginning to disturb me. But now it all makes sense."

"If this happened a week ago, why are you just tellin' me?"

"I wanted to gather some more evidence, and think about it for a little while before I alarmed you."

"Okay," Vivian conceded.

"Just another example (as if we needed more), that these two love birds can only breed destruction. Merlin probably thinks I'm evil now, all because I want to save my family's good name from total ruin. Well damn it, I'm sick of taking casualties! I want this fling to end _now_!" With each word delivered, Morgana Pendragon could feel her ire rising to uncharted levels; she was tired of being patient hoping that Arthur and Gwen would destroy themselves from the inside out.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop callin' 'em 'love birds'? They aint in love, so would you quit it?"

"Fine. But that's beside the point; let's not get too distracted, soon, we'll forget why we met."

"You do realize that I have no clue why I'm here, right?" Vivian reminded Morgana, watching her finally take the letter out of the envelope which rested on her lap.

Morgana nodded, acknowledging Vivian's point. "Remember how a while back, you and I were joking, and how I was saying that I wish that I could ship Gwen off somewhere? Not somewhere terrible, but just somewhere far away from Arthur?"

Vivian laughed, remembering the comical conversation. "Yeah, I remember. What about it though?"

"I came up with the next best thing. Alright: Gwen's biggest dream is to become a nurse and a mother. Well, I can't do anything about the 'mom' part, but…what if I got her into nursing school?"

Vivian's mouth dropped, and she covered it immediately, before putting her hand back in her lap. "You can do that?" She whispered in total awe.

Morgana smiled. "It pays to be a Pendragon. I did my research, and found out about the Adamson School—"

"The college for coloreds in Georgia?"

Morgana held out the unfolded the letter, nodding. "I called, and then wrote a letter to the dean of admissions of the nursing department, and then she sent me this letter. Read it."

Vivian gasped, in shock and in happiness. "Please tell me this is good news…"

Morgana's lipstick red lips curved upwards into a large smile, showcasing her perfectly white teeth, and it was all the answer Vivian needed.

Greedily, Vivian snatched the beige paper out of Morgana's hands, her eyes focusing on the ornate letterhead at the top of the page reading: "The Adamson School: Nursing Department". Vivian smiled brightly, looking at Morgana who nodded silently, encouraging her to read. Vivian's lips moved quietly and rapidly as she read the letter from top to bottom. After about a minute or so, the blonde set the paper in her lap, her eyes wide open, staring straight ahead through Morgana's clear windshield.

"You understand it, right?" Morgana asked taking the letter again, and scanning it quickly for the hundredth time. "They basically guaranteed that they'll take her. Do you know what this means Vivian? The only damn nursing school for coloreds in the South, basically said they'd admit Guinevere all because of my recommendation!"

"Isn't that one of the hardest schools to get into? I thought it was only for bougie Negroes?"

"You're right, it is for the wealthy, but Gwen's a bright girl, and they may even give her a full scholarship because her grades are so good. Her skin is light, so it'll be easy for her to fit in with the other coloreds there. She has everything; except the money, and I've solved that little problem."

"Yeah, but is she smart enough to take the offer?" Vivian asked, a hint of skepticism creeping into her tone.

Morgana's head actually tilted backward, as she began laughing hysterically for a several long moments, the thought of Gwen denying the offer was absolute ludicrous. "Are you kidding me? Vivian: this will be Gwen's _only_ chance to go to nursing school. She doesn't have the money, or the connections, to even dream of stepping onto the campus of the Adamson School! They're the best of the best, there's no way she could get in without this," Morgana raved, shaking the letter from the dean of nursing vigorously. "Trust me; the girl may be love drunk, but she's got brains. This is an offer too good to refuse."

Vivian smiled, leaning back into her seat, resting a hand over her heart. "I do declare: Morgana Pendragon, you are a genius."

"I think it was Divine Intervention."

"I don't care what the hell you call it; all I know is that this will finally get that maid far away from Arthur."

Morgana nodded, folding the paper, and placing it back into the envelope gingerly, handling it like it was sacred. "I spent most of mu day in that dingy colored high school in Dearborn, where Gwen graduated two years ago, trying to get her school transcripts. I finally convinced them that I was merely running an errand for her, and those people finally gave it to me. I mailed them to the Adamson School straight away, and left a message with the dean of admissions, letting him know that I had done so."

Vivian clapped her hands together excitedly. "When are you gonna tell her!"

"When it's a done deal."

"How long is it gonna take? And wait; it's Christmas next week; it's near the middle of the school year! Does that mean she can't leave until fall of _next_ year!"

"Don't worry about that, Vivian, I'm sure it'll all get worked out. Just one step at a time. This way, not only are we saving my family from ruin, but we're also helping Gwen."

"Sure," Vivian replied suddenly disinterested. "I must hand it to you though, Morgana; when you set your mind to something, you get it done."

"There's no use in doing things half way, especially when it's for my family. The Adamson School is our last resort."

"I thought our last resort was your Uncle."

"We're not that desperate yet. If everything goes according to plan, which it will, Uncle will never have to know about this little affair. Gwen will just disappear ever so quietly, and trust me; Arthur will forget about her in a hot minute."

"Of course he will." Vivian twirled a strand of blonde hair thoughtlessly. Things were finally looking up, Arthur was so close, she could nearly taste him.

* * *

><p>Gwen stood near the front door, resting her hands on her hips, smiling at the high gloss which emanated from the newly polished white tile of the foyer. For the past hour, she had swept and mopped the area, finishing the chore rather quickly for just one person. Marge passed through whistling and carrying some linens as Gwen evaluated her work with pride.<p>

"Hey, watch out Marge! It's wet, I don't want you to fall!" Gwen warned the maid who stopped in her tracks, looking behind her to Gwen.

"Oops, sorry, Gwen. It looks good girl," Marge complimented with a smile.

"Oh, thanks Marge."

The maid nodded, taking a couple of steps in the other direction, before Gwen called for her yet again.

"Hey Marge, have you seen Arthur or Morgana? The house has been mighty quiet today."

"Miss Morgana is spendin' the night with a friend and Mister Arthur…" Marge's voice trailed off, as she looked around her nervously. She made a hand motion for Gwen to come closer, bringing her voice down to a whisper once the girl had done so. "Now, I know you've been food shoppin' all day, and mending clothes in the sewing room, so you missed it."

"Missed what?" Gwen asked, immediately nervous. Marge always liked to be dramatic and gossip, but something was quite dire in her tone.

"Arthur: when he came home from classes today."

"Is he alright?"

"Ah, hell no!" Marge nearly exclaimed. "I thought that boy was fixin' to tear that door off of its hinges!" Marge took her free hand, pointing to the ornate front door of the home. "He stomped in here, nearly bowling poor Clarence over, as he huffed and puffed all the way to his room. I thought I heard some cussin', until we all heard his door slam; and I was in the kitchen! Oh Lordy, that boy's been locked up there ever since; even Stella won't go near him…now_ that's_ sayin' somethin'."

Gwen silently looked up the staircase, her brows together in confusion and worry; she knew how angry Arthur could become. "Do you know what happened?"

Marge shrugged, she too looking up the steps. "Beats me, but I suggest you stay out of his way, honey girl. I'll tell you, the men in this house sure can blow a fuse, and they'll take it out on any one."

Gwen frowned, nodding. "Okay, thanks."

Marge nodded, finally leaving, whistling the same tune she always did.

Gwen remained in the empty foyer, resting her arm on the railing of the stair case, thinking as her fingers drummed against the wood. She knew that something was wrong when the grandfather clock in the dining room struck four, and she hadn't seen Arthur once. Usually Arthur would find her as soon as he got home, anxious to hear about her usually mundane day, or tell her about his. But today had been completely silent, and Gwen would have guessed that Arthur wasn't home at all, had she not seen both of his cars outside. Gwen remembered Marge's words of caution for a split second, but quickly disregarded them, for the next thing she knew, Gwen was at the top of the steps, standing outside of Arthur's room.

She raised her fist to knock on the door, pausing, rethinking her plan of action. She had seen Arthur mad plenty of times, and sometimes he just liked to be alone, and others, he needed someone to calm him down. But because Gwen had neither seen him, nor knew what happened, she wasn't sure which mood he was in. Whichever one it was, Gwen convinced herself that Arthur would want to talk to her about it, and even if she couldn't help him, she always enjoyed being the one he confided in.

She rapped on the door a couple of times; waiting for a response—she was met by silence. She knocked several more times, but garnered no response, causing her to assume that perhaps Arthur was out on his balcony. Slowly, she opened the door, her suspicions of a vacant room confirmed. Yet her other suspicion was proven correct, for through the glass door, Gwen could see Arthur hunched over the railing of the balcony, his back to her. She stood for a few moments, watching him fondly. He appeared to be dressed for work, with brown pants on, and a light blue button up shirt, and a light brown woolen jacket for the colder temperature.

Gwen opened the glass barrier, stepping out onto the balcony, her nostrils immediately assaulted by the stench of cigarette smoke. Her natural reaction was to cover her nose, as Arthur exhaled, flicking the ashes of his cigarette to the wind. It took him a couple of seconds to turn around and acknowledge her presence, but he turned around the next moment.

Gwen's hand fell away from her face, and back to her side, as she stood next to Arthur, far away from the ash tray which had two new cigarette butts in it. Her breath hitched at the sight; so much for quitting. "Hey, Arthur."

Arthur didn't bother to look at her. Instead, Arthur inhaled once again, releasing the smoke slowly. "Gwen," he said curtly and simply.

Gwen rubbed her bare shoulders, not missing the animosity in Arthur's tone. She looked at him, his normally blue eyes clouded over by an emotion which she was unable to detect.

He finally looked at her, putting out his newly lit cigarette in the glass ash tray, running his cold hand through his hair. "What are you doin' out here, huh? You're gonna freeze."

"I wanted to see you, to make sure you're alright."

Arthur swallowed a scoff, crossing his arms over the balcony. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well…I haven't seen you all day, Marge said that you've barricaded yourself in your room, and you're smoking; you only do that when you're stressed." Gwen ran her fingertips lightly against his shoulder, something she knew he liked. But this time, Arthur quickly jerked his shoulder away from her.

"Marge is such a damn big mouth," Arthur said bitterly, putting his lighter back in his pocket.

Gwen wasn't sure how to respond to the criticism, or Arthur walking back into his room, leaving her alone on the balcony. She followed him, watching him take off his jacket, and throwing it on his bed. "Did something happen today?"

Arthur put on another jacket, shaking his head. He really didn't want to lose his temper with her. She shouldn't have come in at all. "Nothing Guinevere, I have to go to work; I'm gonna be late."

"Arthur, can you just stop a second, and talk to me?" Gwen asked as Arthur brushed past her, shaking his head.

"Guinevere, I'm so angry right now. Please just _go_, before I say something I regret."

Gwen stood there, watching Arthur lay his brief case on the top of his bed, opening it up to view its contents.

Arthur looked up to find Gwen still there, and he slammed his brief case closed. "Jeez Guinevere, I'm trying really hard not to be ugly right now, but you're making it pretty damn hard!"

"Arthur, I just want to know what's wrong," Gwen asked taking a step closer to him, only to have Arthur take a step backward in response, putting his arms out.

"Don't _touch_ me right now, Gwen. I don't want the same hands that have touched that prick Lorenzo to be on me."

Gwen stopped, holding her breath for a moment, as Arthur looked her in the eye, his mouth in a straight line.

"That blabber mouth Marge told me. So if you wouldn't mind, please close the door on your way out."

Gwen swallowed, realizing just how angry Arthur was with her, and it was all her fault. "I should've told you. But it's not what you think, Arthur."

"Don't even begin to think that you know what goes on in my head, because you don't!"

"Arthur, this is the exact reason why I haven't told you yet, because I know just how jealous you can be. How many times do I have to tell you that Lorenzo and I are just friends?"

"Jealousy? Is that what you wanna call it? Guinevere, what am I supposed to think when my own girlfriend doesn't tell me that her ex is back in town, or that he's driving her in to work?" Arthur pointed to his chest, all of his anger seeping into his voice. "Please tell me what I'm supposed to think, seen as you know my mind _so_ well."

Gwen looked to the ground, feeling terrible that she had withheld such information from Arthur, and now the entire situation appeared to be scandalous. The shame was apparent in her voice. "I knew that you didn't like Lorenzo, and you already had your doubts about him. I didn't know how to tell you that he appeared out of nowhere, because it surprised me too. I didn't want you to get like this!" Gwen put a hand on her forehead. "I was wrong not to say anything, and have you find out like this."

But Arthur was hardly appeased. "Let me tell you Guinevere, that it's impossible for a man to be 'just friends' with you."

She immediately took offense. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed; she had no right to be the angry one. "I'm a man, so I know firsthand that men are dogs. Trust me; all he wants to do is get in your pants. But you only see the good in people, so you probably don't even realize it."

"Arthur! Not all men are like that! Not all men are like—" Gwen stopped her train of thought, pushing some hair behind her ears in frustration.

Arthur scoffed, looking Gwen directly in the eye. "All men aren't like what? Like me? I'm sorry I can't be so perfect like your little Lorenzo."

"I didn't say that, Arthur," Gwen whispered. She seemed to be digging herself into an even great hole. "It's just that you're not being rational. You don't even know Lorenzo! If you did, you'd realize that he's such a good and honorable person, one who wouldn't even think of taking advantage of me. And I wouldn't let him Arthur, I don't want him to."

"Wow, he sounds like a really great guy," Arthur said sarcastically. "Don't deny that he loved you once, and you did too. I can tell by every time you mention him."

"Arthur, I have my past, and so do you."

"Now, I'm starting to think that I'm just some sort of lousy rebound!" Arthur knew as soon as the words left his mouth that it wasn't true, but he was too prideful to take them back.

"You know that's not true," Gwen gritted out, this time it was she who took a step away from Arthur. "If_ anyone _should be having doubts, it should be me! You become jealous at every little thing for no reason, but goodness Arthur, you have a history of it!"

Arthur winced, as he listened to Gwen continue.

"I've never suspected you of anything, but all of a sudden, I'm this naïve whore, someone who's too dumb to see when someone is trying to take advantage of her?"

Arthur sighed. "I didn't mean it like that."

Gwen looked at the ground for a moment. "It's like you have no faith in me." Gwen looked at Arthur, who had his arms crossed over his chest, and she bit down on the inside of her mouth to try and stop the tears which were welling up from spilling over. Her trembling fingers found the necklace Arthur had given her, the cool silver a striking contrast to her hot fingers. "I guess I will close the door on my way out."

"Wait, Gwen, wait!" Arthur ran around his bed, reaching out to close the door she had just closed.

"I've said everything that I needed to, and I've heard more than enough from you. So I think it's best I leave."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean everything that I said. I am being a little irrational, I know that you'd never betray me. It's just—I don't think I'll ever be comfortable with him, knowing how much he loved you."

"He doesn't anymore, I swear. I don't either. And you're not some rebound. You just have to trust me, trust that I only want you."

Arthur reached for her hand, afraid that she'd try and flee if he didn't do something. "I guess I understand why you were afraid to tell me, who knows how I would've reacted then. I guess I didn't give you the best impression when I lost my head over that letter in the laundry room."

Gwen looked down at Arthur's hand. "I promise not to keep anymore secrets," Gwen whispered, smoothing his bangs over his forehead.

"And I promise to stop being so paranoid." Arthur looked down at Gwen's lips with a smile. "I'd kiss you right now, but…" Arthur thought about how he had been smoking not too long ago.

"No, I want you to," Gwen said shyly, as she felt Arthur wrap his arms around her securely.

He tilted his heading, waiting to add just one more thing. "Let Lorenzo know that if he lays a single finger on you, I'll rip his entire hand off."

Gwen giggled at the statement, bringing Arthur's head down until his lips finally melted with hers.

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired by: "Have Faith in Me" by A Day to Remember<em>


	21. Chapter 21

_First, an apology for the update delay: blame it on exam week, and a rare but severe case of writer's block. But I'm now on Christmas break, and I've finally managed to organize my thoughts for this chapter._

_On that note, I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for your readership, it really does mean a lot, and I thank you for all your kind comments, and I'm glad to hear that you're enjoying my story. Don't forget to comment on this one, and add "My Love, My Secret" to your Story Alert if you haven't already! I'm so excited for the Merlin Season 4 finale, as I'm sure all of you are!_

_**Anon:**_ _The first nursing schools in America were created as early as the mid-nineteenth century. But nursing programs within HBCU's (historically black colleges or universities, which the fictional "Adamson School" would be qualified as) were first created in __1869 in New Orleans. I'm not a historian though, so maybe when your mom became a nurse, training in a university wasn't mandatory, but nursing programs within universities surely did exist by 1954 in the U.S._

_Merry Christmas!_

_YoureAnIllusion_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 21: The All Star Diaries<strong>

Merlin stuffed his cold and dry hands into the side pockets of his woolen jacket, picking up his pace so he could catch up with Arthur who sped along the crowded sidewalk. With Christmas but five days away, and it seemed as if the entire town decided to purchase their presents at once.

"Jeez, would you slow down?" Merlin asked a little agitated and out of breath, finally locking step with unusually quiet Arthur.

Arthur looked quickly over his shoulder at his friend, before looking forward again. "Sorry, something's been bugging me…" Arthur began with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

Merlin nearly scoffed. "Well you don't say…"

"Quit bein' sarcastic, I'm serious," Arthur said stopping quickly, causing Merlin to bump into his shoulder.

"Let me guess; it's about Gwen?" Merlin watched Arthur nod slightly, beginning to move once again, slower this time. "And Lorenzo, right?"

"Yeah, you're right."

Merlin sighed. "Geez, Arthur how many times are you gonna bring this up?"

"I know, but the fact that Gwen's runnin' 'round town with a guy who obviously has the hots for her just doesn't sit right with me."

"And how would you know that? I think it's the jealousy talking…"

"'Cause—I just do. And I aint jealous, I'm just worried."

Merlin rolled his eyes, earning a glare from Arthur. "You're not giving Gwen much credit at all," Merlin began, as he and Arthur stopped walking amongst a group of people who waited to cross the street. "I mean, it's not like—"

Arthur nudged Merlin violently in the side with his elbow. "Shut up, Merlin," he hissed.

Merlin cringed, grabbing onto his side as he and the other shoppers migrated across the street to the next sidewalk, finally speaking once again as the crowd thinned out.

"What the hell was that for?"

"You're such a blabber mouth. People talk in this town, you know."

Merlin narrowed his light eyes, as he stood up straight. "I hope you don't bring this guy Lorenzo up to Gwen half as many times as you do with me."

"I can tell she avoids mentioning him, and I sure don't, because if I did, it'd end in a fight. A fight where I feel like the paranoid loser boyfriend who can't trust anyone."

"Well...are you?"

Arthur scoffed. "Of course not. Guinevere swore up and down that she had no feelings for him. And I believe her."

Merlin threw up his hands, before quickly stuffing them back in his pockets for warmth. "There you go! I fail to see the problem."

"Listen: I know Guinevere would never think of betraying me, and I'm ashamed to admit that I even thought that for a single moment."

"Well then stop."

Arthur ignored Merlin. "But this guy Lorenzo: don't pretend that you didn't see the way he gawked at Guinevere this summer. We all saw it, he looked at her like—I don't even want to think about it."

"Feelings die, Arthur. People move on."

Arthur shook his head. "Gwen's not the type of girl you can just 'move on' with; she's too special."

"There's no convincing you of anything, I don't even know why I try."

"She trusts him so much, and I'm afraid that he could take advantage of her. She only sees the good in people—kind of like you."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"But she can be so naïve; it's because she's so sweet. I think this fella, Lorenzo, is trying to weasel his way back in to her life."

Merlin opened the door to the clothing store he and Arthur were going into to purchase a gift for Morgana. "You do realize that you've never really met or spoken with Lorenzo, right? So you don't know the guy's character; for all you know, he could be the saint that Gwen claims he is. You have absolutely no idea."

Arthur stepped over the threshold of the crowded store like a zombie, snapping his fingers, his eyes wide, and his full lips curved upward in a gleeful grin. "Sometimes Merlin, you actually say something that's not completely stupid!"

Merlin's eyebrows came together in confusion. "What are you rambling about now?" Merlin watched Arthur rub his hands together in excitement. "Arthur…"

"By golly, that's what I'll gotta do!" Arthur laughed, disregarding Merlin, and addressing himself.

"I don't think that I'm gonna like this…" Merlin said uneasily.

Arthur snapped out of his daze, turning to Merlin quickly, pointing towards his chest. "I'll approach Lorenzo, and see what he wants with Guinevere for myself."

Merlin raised a dark brow. "Damn…love really does make a person crazy, doesn't it?"

Arthur rolled his eyes at Merlin's response. "Hey, it was your idea."

Merlin stopped, holding his hands up. "No, I didn't give you any ideas. You're being an idiot again, and not thinking things through; twisting my words to justify what you planned on doing in the beginning."

"The only idiot here is you," Arthur scoffed.

Merlin smacked his forehead in defeat, closing his eyes momentarily. "So what are you gonna do, huh? Go up to him and say: 'Hi my name's Arthur Pendragon... so what are your intentions with my girlfriend, Gwen?' Yeah, let's see how far you get, with that on, Arthur."

Arthur turned around, walking further into the store, leaving Merlin behind. "Don't mock me, Merlin. I'm serious. Unlike you, I'm not completely awkward, and I can easily create a casual conversation. Gwen won't have to come up—unless he mentions her. Then there might be a problem," Arthur readily admitted.

"You do realize how out of control you can get over the slightest things, right? You just admitted it yourself!"

Arthur continued walking briskly toward the rear of the store, dodging other shoppers as he did so, hoping that maybe Merlin would get lost among the crowd, and finally leave him alone.

"What if he says that he still loves Gwen?" Merlin blurted out.

Arthur immediately stopped walking, and his hands self-consciously balled into fists. "Where the hell did that come from? Do me a favor Merlin, and just shut up." Arthur demanded sternly, finally turning to look at his pestering friend.

Merlin stepped closer to Arthur, so he wouldn't have to yell his next words. "What if he told you that he loved Gwen, and wanted to be with her? How would you react then, huh?"

"Merlin, I said to shut the hell up already!"

"What? You'll beat him up? Yell and curse like an inbred fool?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed to slits. "I made up my mind already. Stop trying to talk me out of it; and making a big deal out of nothin'."

"There's no way you could go into a conversation with Lorenzo with a cool head, and you know it. I'm trying to keep you from making a big mistake which would lead to disaster. Stop thinking about only yourself, and consider Gwen."

"I am thinking about Gwen, that's why I don't plan on approaching Lorenzo beating my chest. I just want to talk to him, meet him, scope him out. Guinevere's name won't be dropped once."

Merlin shook his head, as he felt a head ache coming on. "I'm tellin' you now that this is a really bad_ idea_. You have a way of overreacting."

"Merlin, just give it a fucking rest! Okay? Last time I checked, America was still a free country."

And that was the end of it.

* * *

><p>Gwen stood alone in the kitchen, quietly singing to herself as she washed the pots which had been used throughout the day, turning her head just in time to see Stella enter the empty kitchen. It took everything within Gwen to not turn around and scurry the other way as soon as she spotted the head maid. It had been two days since Arthur pulled Gwen aside, begging her not to despair once he broke the news of Stella's revelation to her. Immediately, Gwen assumed that Stella thought the worse; that she was nothing more than a money hungry whore, using her dear Arthur as a gold mine. But Arthur had assured her that Stella thought no such thing, and was quite fond of her, also that her job was safe.<p>

Despite how reassuring Arthur's gentle words had been then, they did little in that moment to relieve the tension Gwen felt around Stella. Of course the always graceful and tactful older woman made no indication of an altered attitude, but Gwen felt completely embarrassed to be near her. Stella was like Arthur's mother, and Gwen felt that she was being sized up on every occasion for the maid to see if she was good enough for her beloved Arthur.

"Gwen, are you doin' anything now?"

Gwen turned off the running tap. "No ma'am, I just finished washing those dishes."

"Good," Stella said moving closer to the girl. "If you wouldn't mind, could you begin puttin' some ornaments on the Christmas tree? It just got hauled in."

"It's just now set up? Christmas is in five days!"

"Yeah, I know. But Uther has this tradition of personally selecting the tree. For the twenty-five years since I've been here, no matter how busy he was, or even if he wouldn't be spending Christmas at the Estate, Uther would go out, and buy himself a Christmas tree." Stella laughed to herself, shaking her head at the fond memories. "But I guess this year his schedule has gotten in the way, but Uther's not one for breaking tradition." Stella let her last phrase linger in the silence of the room.

Gwen looked down at her hands, nervously licking her lips, and hushing her tone. "Miss Stella, Arthur told me about y'alls argument a couple of days ago. Please don't be upset with him, he doesn't want to disappoint you. And, well—it's my fault too."

Stella watched Gwen silently for a moment or two. "Them are some brave words, comin' from a girl who's been ignoring me for two days, now."

Gwen's gaze fell to her feet as she immediately felt intimidated by the maid. "I didn't know where things stood, and I didn't want to make anything worse. I'm sorry."

"I'm up here, girl," Stella said directly but softly, moving her index finger upward for Gwen to reestablish eye contact. "I'm not mad at y'all. Arthur defended you and his decisions like a man, and I can't be makin' his decisions for him anymore; even if I disagree with them." Stella watched Gwen humbly nod, and she found it extremely hard to be even a tad bit angry with the girl for long. "All I want is for you to remain a sensible _Christian _girl, you hear? That boy, he doesn't always think with his big head, if you know what I mean. But he's a man; I'm startin' to think that God made 'em foolish that way."

Gwen slightly grinned, nodding again.

"And two people who aint got a lick of common sense don't make a very good pair, now do they?"

"No ma'am. I reckon they don't."

"You're right. I trust you Gwen. I also trust that you know if you do anythin' to hurt Arthur, it's not only your job you oughta be worried 'bout, you hear?"

Gwen gulped, her eyes wide as she nodded vigorously. "Yes'm, I hear you loud and clear."

Stella smiled, smoothing the front of her dress. "I'm glad. Start actin' normal now, you don't need to be scared of me."

Gwen couldn't help but let out a small sigh of relief as she watched Stella coolly saunter out of kitchen, as if they had just finished speaking about the weather. Gwen walked slowly to the living room where the air seemed infinitely lighter, and the odor of fresh evergreen pine greeted her nostrils. Gwen stopped short in front of the unusually large tree, closing her eyes, taking in a generous whiff of the delightful Christmas decoration, one which hadn't graced her home since the death of her mother.

Several cardboard boxes of ornaments sat around the tree, filled with the most beautiful and expensive ornaments she had ever seen. She picked one up, marveling at it as she picked up a hook, and hung it from one of the tree's abundant branches. As she reached for another, she felt two large and cold hands cover her eyes from behind. She smiled as soon as she smelt the cologne Arthur wore that she loved so much, and covered his hands with her own.

"Arthur, I know it's you," Gwen said pulling down his hands, and turning to him with a bright smile, pushing a curl out of her face.

"You know, you don't even realize how beautiful you are, and it drives me crazy," Arthur whispered, causing Gwen to giggle.

"You tell me that every day, Arthur…"

"But it's true every day," Arthur said with a broad and genuine smile.

Gwen got on her toes, to give Arthur a quick kiss on the cheek. "I've been thinkin' of you a lot today."

"Really?" Arthur asked with a grin, pulling Gwen in by the waist. Arthur lowered for a kiss, before Gwen put her palms to his chest, pushing him away.

"Not here, Arthur," Gwen whispered, but Arthur kept his arms wrapped around her waist. "We're in your living room," she reminded him.

"So? All the doors are closed, no one can see us." Arthur watched Gwen look around the large and empty room, hardly convinced. "Okay, fine," he agreed with a sigh, finally letting go.

Gwen put space between her and Arthur by moving to one of the boxes of ornaments. "Arthur, why don't you help me?"

"Sure," Arthur said with a shrug. He took a step back, looking at the large tree. "My father has this dumb tradition of personally picking the Christmas tree every year. If you ask me, I think it's a waste of time, when he has a million other way more important things to do. Who cares about a single Christmas tree? He could let someone else go get it, he makes a big deal out of it though."

Gwen stood on her tip toes to reach a higher branch as she listened to Arthur. "Yeah, Stella told me about it earlier. I think it's sweet to have a family tradition."

Arthur grinned. "_Stella_ told you?"

"Don't sound so surprised."

"Does this mean you finally quit being scared of her then?"

Gwen looked at Arthur quickly. "I was never scared of her!"

"Guinevere, who are you kidding? You've been trying to avoid her these past two days, even I noticed."

Gwen sighed, giving Arthur a sheepish look. "She came to me, asking me to decorate the tree. Then we got to talkin'…"

"Uh oh…"

"No, no. It went well, I think."

"She didn't go all 'mama bear' and grill you, did she? When she's mad…you better watch out."

"She was definitely frank, but still polite. It wasn't an argument by any stretch of the imagination, but she did give me a warning."

"A warning?"

"She said that if I hurt you in any way, I should fear more than my job…"

Arthur's head went back in laughter, his chuckles filling the room, until he looked upon Gwen who was hardly amused. "She did not!" He asked, unable to at least contain his smile.

"It aint funny, Arthur, she was serious."

Arthur chuckled yet again. "Boy, Stella's a hoot."

"Yeah, you can call it that."

"So are you two okay now?"

Gwen shrugged. "I guess. She said that she wasn't mad, so…"

"Well, now things can go back to normal."

"I'm not sure if normal is the right word for it, Arthur." Gwen turned to the tree, holding her hand out. "Could you pass me another ornament, please?"

"Here, be careful with this one, it's one of Dad's favorites. My mom painted it."

Gwen took hold of the ornament gingerly, slightly rotating it to look at the design on the red sphere. "Was she an artist?"

"Uhh, she dabbled, I guess. But those ornaments don't take much talent. Dad told me once that my mom really enjoyed decorating the tree, and I think that's why he takes so much care in choosing it. Because it reminds him of her."

"That's so sweet. See? It's not some dumb tradition after all."

Arthur shrugged, making it clear that he didn't really want to talk about it anymore. "What about you guys? What do you do with your Christmas tree?"

Gwen laughed, hanging the special ornament, and then turning to Arthur with empty hands. "We don't, we haven't bought one since Mama passed."

"What!" Arthur's eyes widened to saucers, as he heard the most heretical thing of his life. "How do you have Christmas without a _Christmas_ tree?"

"Well Arthur, it may be Christmas, but that doesn't mean that we have or want to spend extra money on some tree which will only be up for a week or two, while the rent and light bills still gotta get paid. Besides, it sort of helps us remember the true meaning of Christmas, not reducing it to gifts and decorations." Gwen said with a bright smile as she looked at the wide eyed Arthur. "I quite like it actually. A simple life is a happy one; trees don't really mean anything."

"I've never met anyone who doesn't put up a Christmas tree…"

"Come live in my neighborhood, and you will." Gwen laughed, as she looked at the shell-shocked Arthur. "It's not a big deal Arthur, stop staring at me!"

"It's just…I never thought of a lousy tree as a privilege. That's so…sad."

"Arthur, didn't you hear me say it's just a tree? I'm better off than a lot of people, what difference does a tree make?"

"What if I got you a Christmas tree? Would you take it?"

"Arthur, have you been listening to me? I don't _want_ one."

"Yeah, I'm listening, but why not? I'd be glad to get your family one. Let me—"

"Arthur," Gwen began, bending to choose another ornament. "You don't have to buy things to make me happy, you know?"

"But—"

"Books, and necklaces, and even trees are nice, but they're not everything to me. I don't want you spending your money on me."

"I have too much of it. I have nothing to do with all of the cash I have."

"That may be true, but I just don't want you to think that you have to buy me things every week, okay? I may not have much, but I have all that I need."

Arthur couldn't help himself but look upon Gwen with awe. Everything about her was such a gorgeous contrast to the socialites he was surrounded by; she was like his beautiful mocha Martian, and he loved it. He took one of her curls, twisting it between his fingers as he thought for a moment. "Even when I was a kid, all I could think about was getting_ stuff_, and here you are, happy with the little you have."

"Don't beat up on yourself Arthur, you're not a bad person. I've had little my entire life, so it's easy for me."

Arthur laughed at a memory which flashed through his mind. "I remember when I was ten, I begged my Dad for a new bike. So Christmas morning comes, and sure enough I got a bike, except, it didn't have the set of bells I wanted, the ones which made a lot of noise. But Morgana, she got everything she wanted, and I felt like I had been a victim of the worst crime in the universe, because my dad couldn't even get the damn bells right."

Gwen laughed as Arthur's blue eyes illuminated at the memory, and he became excited; the way he always was when he shared a story with her.

"So I cried. I cried my little ten year old eyes out; I just couldn't get over those bells. Finally, Stella dragged me by the ear into the hallway and pointed directly at me. She said 'Arthur Pendragon, boy, you better quit your hollerin' this second!'"

Gwen laughed at the higher pitched tone Arthur took on as he imitated Stella's voice.

"I'll never forget it; she told me about all the little kids who were hungry and homeless, or with dad's dying overseas in the war, and there I was crying about some bells." Arthur shook his head with a grin. "I sure was one hell of a brat, but Stella has a way of sobering someone up quick. I marched back into the living room with my puffy red eyes, sniffling all the way with my head down, and I apologized to my dad. I got the right bike the next week, though."

"Stella sure does have a way with you, doesn't she?"

"Yeah she does, but I think you and Merlin are the only people who understand that. Who understand our bond…most people frown upon it."

"Yeah, I would think that."

"When I was growing up, I'd overhear people talking to my dad, saying things like: 'your boy's fixin' to be a nigger lover if you don't do somethin' soon, Uther.' Or if they were polite busy-bodies: 'do you think it's proper for a Pendragon gentleman to be taught by some colored domestic?' People said worse things, but I'm sure you can use your imagination."

"But she's still here. Obviously your dad likes her too."

"Their relationship is strange. On one hand, I think he's grateful that someone was keeping me grounded when he wasn't around. Yet, there have been times where he came close to firing Stella because he thought she was gaining too much influence."

"You're lucky Arthur, that at least you have a surrogate mother," Gwen reminded him a little sadly. "It's better than nothing, right?"

Arthur noticed moisture beginning to form on Gwen's eyelids, and he moved to rub her shoulders affectionately. "I have been blessed, but so have you Gwen. You may not have much money to your name—"

"More like 'any money'."

Arthur chuckled. "Alright. You may not have any money to your name, but you have the best family anyone could ask for. You have a loving community filled with people who stand by one another through hardship, and joy. I mean just look at the way your neighborhood reacted to the fires; everyone was outside, helping in any way they could. Also, you knew your mother, and you'll always carry those memories, don't forget that."

Gwen nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I know."

"Good. We should make it look like we're decorating…"

"Good idea."

"I think the last thing we need is—"

"Arthur?"

Both Arthur and Gwen turned quickly on their heels to find Uther Pendragon standing by the now open door way in his charcoal gray three-piece suit, an eyebrow raised in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly, and turned to the hallway. "Vivian, dear: I found Arthur. He's in the living room."

The footsteps of heeled shoes were heard against the tile until Vivian Remington's thin frame appeared next to Uther in the doorway. She rested a hand on his shoulder, until she glanced into the living room where her gaze froze.

Uther cleared his throat as he felt Vivian's hand fall off of his shoulder like a dead weight. "Son, what are you doing in here? Company will be arriving soon."

"I was helping Guinevere decorate the Christmas tree," Arthur explained, reaching for the nearest glass ornament, and holding it up as if it were proof.

"Ah," Uther responded with a nod.

Arthur cracked a nervous smile, quickly putting the ornament back in the box. He looked at his father who seemed to be appeased with the explanation, then to Vivian whose light eyes were boring into he and Gwen who stood rooted in their spots, a safe distance from one another.

Uther loosened his neck tie. "Well, I invited the Remingtons over for dinner, and there'll be here in half an hour; Vivian's just a little early. In fact Arthur, why don't you go wash up, and put on something…appropriate?"

Arthur looked down at his khakis and red polo, then back to his father with open arms. "What's wrong with this?"

"No, go change."

"No?" Arthur looked down at his attire once again.

Uther tilted his head slightly, losing his patience quickly. "As in 'hell no'. We're having company; we're not going to some diner. Now do I have to tell you again to go make yourself presentable?"

Over the years, Arthur was able to determine when his father could be bargained with, and when he meant business. This time, it was the latter, so Arthur decided not to argue further as he looked one last time at Gwen, before brushing past his father and Vivian without another word.

Uther sighed, rubbing his temples, before turning to Vivian with a small smile. "Vivian dear, you said you were thirsty?"

"Yes sir, just a little."

"I have to go prepare for supper, but I'm sure Gwen here will tend to you just fine." Uther looked to Vivian for any signs of confirmation, but instead, he found her appearing wide-eyed and nervous. Uther laughed, touching Vivian's shoulder only to have her jump slightly at the contact. "Don't worry Vivian; I don't think she bites." Uther lifted his chin, making it clear that he was addressing Gwen. "Give Miss Remington anything that she desires."

"Of course, sir."

Uther smiled at Vivian before looking at his watch, and hurrying out of the room, his heavy footsteps heard against the staircase only moments later.

"Ma'am, if you'd like to follow me, the kitchen is right through here," Gwen said with a smile.

Vivian rolled her eyes, swallowing an unladylike snort. "I've been here much longer than you; I think I know where the kitchen is."

Gwen only blinked in shock at Vivian's blunt and unwarranted reaction, as the blonde sauntered past her. Gwen sighed, shaking her head as she too walked to the empty kitchen, finding Vivian waiting near a counter, with her arms crossed over her chest. Gwen quietly retrieved a glass, filling it with water, and then handing it to Vivian.

"Are you alright ma'am? Would you like something to eat? You look a little blanched."

Vivian watched the maid for several moments, mustering all of the self control she contained, as not to slap the maid across the mouth, and make her shut up. "I'm sorry, I had a frustrating day, week—month. I'm just a little frazzled." Vivian plopped down onto one of the stools near the counter, and covered her aching forehead.

"I understand. Sometimes, we just need a chance to…relax."

Gwen's kind and bubbly demeanor made Vivian feel a little guilty for being so rude to her only a few moments ago. The remorse was quickly swept away as Vivian reminded herself who exactly she was sitting with—conversing with. This Gwen Gibson was no ordinary maid; she was Arthur's "lovebird" as Morgana had so fondly dubbed her.

"You know, I've seen you around a couple of times. Have you worked here long?" Vivian asked as warmly and politely as possible.

"Not as long as everyone else, but for about six months, I think. I've seen you around quite a few times as well."

Vivian cast her steely gaze on her beverage, realizing that she wouldn't be able to grit through dialogue constantly looking upon Gwen's constantly radiant and tender manner. It was beginning to make her sick. She cleared her throat. "My father is Olaf Remington; he and Uther go way back; my parents are also Arthur's godparents. I grew up with Morgana, Arthur, and that bean pole _Merlin_." Vivian paused, and glance at the maid as she laughed sweetly.

"Ah, Merlin."

Vivian scoffed. "Yeah, Merlin." Vivian returned her gaze to her still and clear water, thinking on how to make her next words seem as nonchalant as possible. "So I think it's safe to say that I'm really connected to the Pendragons. Heck, Arthur and I also dated for a long spell," Vivian explained with a light laugh.

Gwen cleared her throat, her discomfort terribly apparent. "Oh really? I don't really know Arthur that well." Gwen quickly turned to another counter, taking a nearby rag and wiping down the area even though it was already clean.

Vivian shrugged, smiling at Gwen's reaction. "Well, maybe that's a good thing, that you don't know him well."

Gwen's motions froze, as she made her voice as light as possible. "And why's that, ma'am?"

"Because he's a 'Class A' jerk."

Gwen turned around, leaning her back against the counter. "Really? I always thought he was quite kind."

Vivian couldn't resist snorting this time. "I dated the guy, and trust me; he's the king of the dogs. He's a lying, self-absorbed, sex-crazed bastard."

Vivian stood from her seat, moving to the sink where she dumped the water from her glass with a splash. "Do yourself a favor, and leave him alone. He eats sweet girls for breakfast." With that, Vivian gave Gwen a sweet smile, pointing at the glass. "Thanks for the water."

Gwen looked to the empty glass which rested on the marble counter, then back at Vivian. "You hardly drank any of it, ma'am."

Vivian shrugged. "You can call me Miss Remington." Vivian flipped her curled hair over her shoulder, and then turned, leaving the kitchen, only looking back once to see Gwen standing in her place like a statue.

* * *

><p>Uther looked at his watch for the fifth time, his patience wearing thin. "Arthur, would you hurry up? You're taking even longer than Morgana!" Uther grumbled at his son who was in the bathroom.<p>

"You're the one who wanted me to change so badly!" Arthur called out to his father who had been waiting in his bedroom for the past ten minutes.

"You better watch that tone of yours, or—"

Arthur came out of his attached bathroom, buttoning up his newly starched shirt. "Or what Dad? Or you'll do what?"

"Just hurry up, will you?"

Arthur walked to his closet, grabbing a matching jacket to his black pants. "Is there a reason you're waiting in here? I'm twenty-two; I think I learned how to dress myself a long time ago."

"Arthur, toss the sarcasm for just a single moment, please. I have something serious to discuss."

Arthur paused, looking at his father, then closing the door to his closet, and throwing his jacket onto the bed. "What? Is everything okay?" Arthur asked, immediately concerned. "Did something happen?"

Uther held up his hand. "No, no, nothing dire. It's business related."

Arthur let out a slight sigh of relief. "Ok, you're making me nervous though…"

"Arthur, it's about time that we think about the future. You're right; you're twenty-two. You're now a young man, a bright and charming one I might add. You've only been working at the main office for a little while now, but you've impressed everyone nonetheless. I think that it's now appropriate to take you to the annual state of affairs conference that I hold in Charleston. It's time that all my important investors and colleagues finally meet you."

"Wow, I'd be honored!" Arthur replied, trying not to sound too excited. "This is the largest meeting of the year, and I know what a privilege it is to attend. Thank you." Arthur felt like there was more he ought to say, but found himself at a loss for words.

Uther smiled at his son's apparent joy. "Fantastic! Don't worry, we'll be down there for three days, but it's not all business. There will be parties and social gatherings, including the governors New Year's Eve party in his mansion. This will be your first chance to really get out there in the greater international business world, and truly market yourself. I know you'll really make a name for yourself." Uther began to speak quickly, as he explained to his son what the trip would entail.

"When do we leave?"

"On the 28th, three days after Christmas. The Remingtons will be so pleased to know that you're joining us!"

Arthur's head tilted forward, and his eyes narrowed slightly. "What did you say? The Remingtons?"

"The governor is hosting a New Year's Eve party which directly coincides with the conference. You and I were invited, along with Remingtons."

Arthur slowly folded his arms over his chest. "So, I take it Vivian will be there?"

"Of course Arthur, don't be simple."

Arthur chuckled ironically, letting his arms fall to his side, and his hands brush his thighs. "Hell, you've finally lost your mind, haven't you? It's just a_ coincidence _that Vivian and I are both spending the weekend in Charleston at the same time, and this just _happens _to be the year that you invite me to your conference?"

"Arthur, stop being ridiculous. Everything just…worked out. You should be glad that you're being given the chance to accompany me."

"Well things tend to get sour quickly with Vivian around."

"Arthur, we've discussed this matter at great length..."

Arthur stepped away from his father, picking up his jacket and shrugging it on. "I'm so sick and tired of you constantly throwing me at Vivian! How many times, in how many different ways do I have to tell you that I can't stand her! I want nothing to do with her; you're the one who likes her so much!"

"Arthur! Hush, she's only downstairs, she'll hear you!" Uther hissed.

"I hope she hears! Maybe she'll finally understand to leave me the hell alone! I'm tired of these love games you're playing. I'm not taking a single step towards Charleston if Vivian will be there too."

Uther stood back, watching his son work himself into frenzy…perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned the Remingtons right away. "There's nothing you can do to change this Arthur. You may not like her, but you're escorting her for one night, so suck it up, and take it like a man. Things don't always go your way."

Arthur rolled his eyes as his father continued.

"Now you're gonna go downstairs and behave like the Southern _gentleman _I've raised you to be. You understand? Leave your attitude here."

Arthur remained silent, realizing that arguing wouldn't further his cause. Instead he shrugged, brushing past his father in frustration.

* * *

><p>Encouraged by his father's glare, Arthur quickly stood and pulled out Vivian's chair, helping her up from the dining table. She lightly took his hand, smiling up at him.<p>

"Thank you Arthur. Dinner was lovely."

Arthur only nodded, as he felt Vivian link arms with his, and he resisted sucking in his breath at the contact. He looked over his shoulder to find Morgana standing on her own, devoid of Merlin's customary assistance. He had noted a slightly awkward strain between the two at dinner, but of course he said nothing.

He also caught Gwen staring at him and Vivian as she cleared the table. He offered her a smile as they made eye contact, but the maid turned her head quickly in the other direction.

"Arthur, what are you looking at?" Vivian too turned in Arthur's direction.

Arthur couldn't help but keep looking at Gwen, puzzled by her curious reaction. "N-nothing, I'm not looking at anything."

Vivian patted his shoulder gently, sending uncomfortable shivers up his spine. "Would you walk me to my car?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "Uhh, yeah, sure." He made sure that no hint of enthusiasm could be detected in his voice.

"Wait, Vivian!" Morgana called up, catching up to the pair, with Merlin close behind. "Vivian, I can still come over tonight, right?"

Vivian looked at Merlin, then to Morgana. "Yeah, you may as well drive with me."

"Awesome." Morgana turned to face the table where the Remingtons and Uther still sat, conversing and laughing with one another. "Uncle, I'm going to leave now, I'll be back in the morning!"

"Alright, have fun."

"Drive safe, you two," Olaf Remington added.

Morgana nodded with a smile, looking to Vivian who held Arthur captive. The three began to make way to leave the room, until Morgana stopped.

"Merlin, are you coming outside with us?"

"Nah, I think I'll just wait here."

"I'll be back soon," Arthur assured his friend.

Merlin grinned. "Oh, you take your sweet time Arthur. Don't worry about little ol' me." Merlin watched the three leave the dining room, lingering until he heard the front door open and close. He waited for about five seconds to make sure that no one was coming back inside, before he ran up the steps as fast as his long and lanky legs could take him.

He had been aching to read Morgana's latest entries, curious as to what her future plans were, and what exactly they had to do with the Adamson School, though he had his ideas. He was so eager, that he even brought his own bobby pin, keen on maximizing every moment he had in Morgana's room. At least this time he knew she'd be gone for good, it was just Arthur he had to worry about. He had a maximum of ten minutes until Arthur would be back upstairs looking for him.

Quickly but quietly, Merlin opened Morgana's closed door, leaving it open just a crack so he could hear any noise from the hallway. This time around, Morgana's gargantuan room was much cleaner, making Merlin's direct route to her bedside drawer that much quicker. Buzzed with unbridled anticipation, Merlin sat on Morgana's bed so quickly that he bounced a couple of times. As soon as he pulled out the drawer, Merlin found Morgana's purple diary on top of the other contents, whereas it was usually buried. It was when Merlin picked it up, that he noticed it was extremely thin, and the small lock was missing. He turned it over, examining it for any other oddities.

"What the hell…" He gasped as he opened the book to the first page, only to find it completely blank. Judging from the binding, all of the previous pages had been ripped out, leaving no more than ten pages in the book. She knew. Merlin had now realized how crafty Morgana Pendragon was, but he had indeed underestimated her. It seemed that nothing got past her. Yet, part of Merlin didn't want to believe it, for he leafed through the few pages that were left, stopping at the middle page. In thick blue ink, Merlin read:

"_Dear Merlin: Nice try. Morgana."_

Merlin immediately felt sick as he read the short note.

"Ah, Merlin."

Merlin's head immediately looked up, only to behold Morgana, standing in front of him, wearing the most disgusting grin on her lipstick red lips that he had ever seen. _She _made him sick. Though startled, Merlin could immediately feel his jaw set, as he watched Morgana take another step closer to him, diverting her gaze for a moment to her diary which sat next to him.

"I take it, you're looking for these?" Slowly, Morgana raised her right hand, revealing a stack of small off-white papers filled with her slanted writing, all bound together in a clip. She watched Merlin sit on the bed, just glaring at her. "Oh, I think you have some serious explaining to do." Her smile had disappeared, her eyes narrowed and cold.

Merlin slowly stood up, showing Morgana that she didn't intimidate him in the least. "I could say the same for you, _Morgana_."

Both simultaneously looked at the diary pages which had been removed from their original binding held together by an office clip, then back to one another.

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired by: "The All-Star Diaries" by A Skylit Drive<em>


	22. Chapter 22

_Short message this week: I know it took a while for me to churn this one out, but I hope you all enjoy it! Don't forget to add me to your Story Alert if I'm not there already, and don't forget to comment; I'm curious to see the reaction to this chapter. Happy Reading._

_YoureAnIllusion_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 22: I'll Shut You Down<strong>

Gwen turned the tap of the kitchen sink on, running her hand under the water until it became warm. Marge and Stella buzzed about the kitchen around her, each silently completing their own tasks as they tried to listen to the conversation between Uther and the Remingtons in the next room.

"Here, I'll wash that bowl for you, Marge," Gwen offered, disrupting the silence.

"Oh, thanks." Marge said handing the bowl to the girl. "Hey Gwen, how has Alice been doing? You haven't said anything about her."

"Sorry, she's much better. Last night, Lorenzo and I brought her family some supper, because I'm pretty sure her little boys are tired of their papa's cooking," Gwen said with a giggle.

Stella turned from the counter she was cleaning, looking at Gwen's back as she stood at the sink. "I saw that Lorenzo boy yesterday when he came to pick you up, and I saw that big ol' cast 'round his foot."

Gwen looked at the older maid. "Oh, I never told you about that, Stella?"

Stella shook her head in the negative.

Gwen turned back to the sink as she shrugged. "He got injured in a match while he was in New York, and broke his ankle. He'll actually have it off in a couple of weeks, he's super excited for it," Gwen informed her coworkers with a smile. "But I haven't heard him complain once about it, and the doctors say his recovery is going much faster than they anticipated." Gwen turned off the tap, reaching for a nearby towel to dry it. "But in the days, he helps around at his family's grocery store."

"Oh yeah," Marge said snapping her fingers. "I talked to him yesterday, while he was waitin' for you to come down, and he was telling me about it. Sounds like a nice store."

Stella turned to Marge, her hands on her hips. "So you've met this boy too?"

"Uhh…yeah. I reckon everyone has."

"Not me."

"What, you jealous?" Marge teased, a smile spreading on her face.

"Well the way I hear all the women in the house go on about him, maybe I oughta be," Stella said with a chuckle.

"Don't be offended Miss Stella; you're just not as nosey as everyone else," Gwen said looking directly at Marge. "Anyway, Lorenzo is really shy. Sometimes I think it takes him by surprise that all of these women are taking an interest in him."

Gwen giggled, as she took a few steps to a cupboard, standing on her toes to put the clean bowl back on its appropriate shelf. "Miss Stella if you really wanna meet him, I'm sure he'd be happy to talk to you. You two would get along like peas in a pod, I reckon."

"Alright, I may have to take you up on that offer."

Gwen nodded with a smile as she moved back to the sink to wash her hands. She looked out onto the horizon through the kitchen window, admiring the purple and pink shades of the setting sun. "You know Marge, I've been thinkin'…" Slowly, Gwen's voice trailed off, and her hands stilled, as she looked out of the window with wide eyes.

Marge looked to Stella, then to Gwen, waiting for the girl to finish her sentence."Well go on, and spit it out honey: what have you been thinkin'?" Marge asked impatiently after about five seconds of silence. Both maids awaited a response, but none was offered.

* * *

><p>Arthur was sure that any circulation which had previously existed in his arm had been severed by Vivian Remington's tight and unrelenting grip. Even as they walked down the stairs which took them away from the home and to the driveway, Vivian's grasp remained faithful.<p>

"Uhh, I think you can let go now." Arthur informed Vivian as he cleared his throat. Arthur moved his arm around a little once released from Vivian's clutch, looking behind him as he did so. "Hey, where'd Morgana go?"

Vivian too looked behind her, before shrugging. "I guess she left something inside, she'll be out soon, I'm sure."

Arthur nodded, continuing down the steps silently. Once they reached the pavement of the driveway, Arthurs stopped, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. "Well then…I guess I walked you out. Have a good night."

Before Arthur had the chance to turn on his heels and escape, Vivian blurted out quickly: "Arthur, I'm glad you're coming to Charleston!"

Arthur just looked at her, unsure of what to say. "Yeah, me too. I'm really excited for the meetings."

"Oh yeah, your father's big annual conference?"

Arthur looked down, as he kicked a loose rock, nodding his head. "Yup, he's finally letting me tag along."

"That's great," Vivian said with a smile.

Arthur just nodded again, unsure if Vivian was going to speak again or not. When she didn't, Arthur silently waved, informing her that he was ready to depart. With his hands in his pockets, he turned from Vivian Remington, until he heard her soft voice yet again, this time in a hushed whisper.

"Arthur," Vivian began her gaze diverting to her small feet as he turned to face her. "I know you're really excited for the trip. But I also know that you didn't wanna go anymore you're your dad told you I'd be there too." After a few moments of silence, she raised her head to look Arthur in the eye. She shrugged with an unconvincing smile, trying her best to make light of the situation. "Well you got your wish, I guess. I heard every word of the argument, loud and clear."

Arthur sighed, as he lifted his hand to scratch the back of his head. "Vivian, you weren't supposed to hear any of that."

"Yeah, well I sort of did."

"It's just that…in case you haven't noticed, things between you and me aren't the way they used to be. It's probably best that we just leave each other alone I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, but, whenever you and I are together, bad things happen."

Vivian waited until she was certain that her voice wouldn't quiver. "Arthur, what we had wasn't all bad," she said taking a step closer to him. "I've changed! Can't you see that?"

Arthur instinctively took a step backwards, holding up his hands to deter any further advances from Vivian. "Viv, it's not about you changing, we just weren't good for each other. And I surely wasn't good to you, not by any stretch of the imagination."

"Don't say that, Arthur."

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his head tilted to the side. "Vivian…don't you remember that I _cheated_ on you, with your best friend?"

Vivian looked away briefly, sniffling to keep the tears away. "She was a whore. She seduced you, I know she did," Vivian said quickly.

"No Vivian, she didn't." Arthur said bluntly. Quit makin' excuses for me because the only thing it does is make you want me more, and it aint healthy." Arthur exhaled, looking up at the multicolored sky. "You have absolutely_ no_ idea how tired I am of sinning. And when I was with you, that's all I did."

"So this is my fault?" Vivian asked with narrowed eyes, pointing to her chest.

"Vivian, I'm trying to say this as nicely as possible," Arthur's tone began to rise, indicating his dwindling patience. "Do yourself a favor, and forget about me. Finally move on."

"But Arthur, I don't_ want _to forget about you."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, as he sighed yet again. "You have to, because I've already moved on. It isn't fair to have you clinging onto a hope that will never be; not again, at least."

Vivian shook her head, as she felt hot tears begin to sting her eyes. "You found someone else, then?"

Arthur looked Vivian directly in the eye. "Yes."

Vivian quickly wiped the tears away from her face which she couldn't hold at bay for a moment longer. "Tell me who is she then. You at least owe me that, you bastard." Vivian said angrily, as her arms fell limply to her side.

"I don't owe you a thing," Arthur said with narrow eyes. But the moment the remark had left Arthur Pendragon's lips, Vivian's open right hand made contact with his cheek, resulting in a loud clap, and his head forced to the right by the impact. Arthur quickly recovered, his eyes wide as he placed a cool hand against his throbbing cheek.

"You make me sick," Vivian hardly gritted out, her face marred by tears, and her right hand trembling.

Arthur was past trying to be nice. "Well I'm glad we finally feel the same way about one another! You're the most pathetic person I know Vivian. I can hardly believe I was with someone who was so weak!"

Vivian didn't even bother to wiper her face, as she just looked at Arthur shaking her head. "I hope you and your new whore of the week are happy."

Arthur had finally had enough, as he decided to turn away from Vivian, this time for good. "Go get some help, Vivian," Arthur scoffed, barely loud enough for her to hear.

Vivian quickly opened her car door, speeding off of the Pendragon Estate as quickly as her four wheels could take her.

* * *

><p>Merlin could feel the beat of his heart threaten to pound a hole in his rapidly moving chest and his pale palms grow sweaty as Morgana's light angry eyes bored into his own, waiting for the explanation she had just demanded. But when Merlin finally spoke, breaking the intensity of the moment, it wasn't a clarification he offered.<p>

"What are you holding?" He asked, looking at the stack of papers Morgana held at her side.

"You're not the one who gets to ask the questions here. You're snooping in my room, and it's not the first time." Morgana didn't yell, but her voice almost became guttural with intensity.

There was little Merlin could do to hide his shock.

Morgana actually laughed, as she threw the papers to Merlin who hardly caught them. "You're not sneaky in the least, Merlin."

"Sorry, but I'm not as good of a liar as you are." Merlin scoffed, looking down at the papers. They were her previous diary entries.

"Is that supposed to make me feel bad?"

"Does it? Because normal human beings feel bad after they've done wrong."

Morgana's eyes narrowed. "I've done nothing wrong."

Merlin threw down the diary entries, as if they were a hot potato. "I don't want these," he said in disgust, stepping away from them. He looked up at Morgana who watched him intently. "So I guess it's all out in the open then? You know my secret, and I know yours."

"You know nothing, Merlin."

"Well stop pretending to be the loving and caring Morgana for a single moment, and enlighten me. Tell me what it is exactly that has made you so warped."

Silence.

"Morgana, Arthur and Gwen are—were your friends. Why are you do you hate them so much? Why are you trying to break them apart?"

"Merlin, I hate to break it to you, but I've come to realize that the world isn't black and white. There comes a time when you have to quit being weak, and my time is now."

Merlin pointed to the papers. "That is not strength, it's madness."

Morgana scoffed, shaking her head as she spoke once more. "You're sadly mistaken if you think I'm fixingto going to sit back and watch Arthur wreck the family and everything my uncle has worked for because he couldn't control himself for once in his life!"

"Who made you God? What you're doing is wrong Morgana: the lying, the spying, the manipulation. You sure do have Vivian under your wing." Merlin self-consciously took a step backward as he watched a grin appear on Morgana's face, as she briefly closed her eyes, and shook her head. "Why are you smiling? Stop it! Stop it right now; what the hell is wrong with you!"

"You have some serious nerve Merlin, to think that you know the minds and hearts of everyone."

"I obviously misjudged you…you have no remorse, do you? Conscience; you do remember what that word means, right?" Merlin asked with a scoff.

"Remorse!" Morgana nearly cackled, taking a step nearer to Merlin. "Remorse doesn't change the fact that_ my_ cousin is preparing to drive the Pendragon name into the ground by screwing a colored maid! Remorse is what got the Tates where they are now; totally disgraced and rejected, and Arthur is doing the same exact thing Mary did. Well, I'd rather have no conscience if that's what having a conscience gets you. Merlin, it's not your family, so just mind your own damn business, and let me take care of mine!"

"Morgana, it's Arthur's life, not yours. The only thing he wants Gwen, and you should be happy that he finally found love!"

"In case you haven't noticed Merlin, we don't live in a place that takes kindly to whites and coloreds mixin'; this aint the North. We're in the South, we're in the country where the Ku-Klux-Klan deals out justice, and coloreds have been lynched and houses have burnt to the ground for less."

"That's your excuse? You're no better than the Klan, Morgana! You sound just like one, you sound just like a racist."

Morgana took a deep breath, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "You know what…perhaps I am."

"Stop, don't say that Morgana…"

"Over my dead body will Arthur shame us over some Negro plaything," Morgana was barely able to grit the words out, as her jaw clenched. "The press aren't gonna stop and examine the girl's character before they tell the world that a Pendragon has been caught sneaking 'round with a low-class nigger. And if that makes me a racist, so be it," she finished with a nonchalant shrug.

Merlin's eyes widened at Morgana's logic, realizing that there was no saving her. She was fully convinced that she was meant to be the savior of her family, the light which was contrary to Arthur and Gwen's darkness. "This isn't the real Morgana talking. This isn't you."

"Merlin, wake up! This is _me_, and the world we live in is filled with people like me." Morgana rested a hand on her forehead, as she felt a head ache come on, so she lowered her voice. "If you really do care for your sweet and innocent lamb 'Gwen' as much as you claim you do, then you too would be encouraging her to leave Arthur the hell alone, and go back to her own kind."

"What you're doing isn't encouraging, it's manipulation. Besides, what is done is done; they're in love, and no amount of 'manipulation' is gonna change that."

"Oh Merlin, you have no idea what I'm capable of. I'm not the sappy tart everyone thinks that I am. This _relationship _is only a case of severe curiosity, there is no way in hell Arthur Pendragon, a thorough-bred white man could love someone like Gwen. It's infatuation, one which can't produce anything good."

Merlin could only look at Morgana, his mouth slightly agape as he listened intently to each of her venomous words. What shocked him the most was that this was the first time that he had ever heard Morgana vocalize such opinions; there was a stark difference from hearing her express them out loud with unending conviction, and reading flat words on a page. Suddenly, Merlin felt Morgana's cold and clammy hand on his arm, her eyes looking directly into is. Immediately, he tried to jerk away. "Get off of me! You're crazy!" He swung his arm away, nearly hitting Morgana's bed post.

"Merlin, you and I want the same thing," Morgana began, her voice calm and even.

"No we don't!" Merlin said shaking his head vigorously, taking a step away from Morgana. "I want Arthur and Gwen to be happy, and you want…I don't know what you want because you've gone mad Morgana! I don't know what the hell happened to you, but you have got some serious issues, and are taking them out on Arthur and Gwen. Well I won't let you. I won't let you ruin the one good thing he has!"

"You misunderstood me—"

"No, I understand you completely."

Morgana pointed to her chest. "I want Arthur to be happy too, and I realize that that can never be with Gwen. Let's say, for the sake of argument that they are in love."

Merlin folded his arms over his chest.

"Don't deny the fact that Arthur will eventually marry, and his bride cannot be Gwen. So what will your innocent little Gwen be then? Just another nigger whore, that's all she'll be. Is that what you want?"

Merlin gasped, his arms falling to the side. "Jesus, I'm not listening to this for another second." Merlin said brushing past Morgana.

Morgana turned quickly on her heels, watching Merlin turn his back on him. "Merlin! You'll have to wake up sooner or later! You can help me; look out for Arthur!"

"I want nothing to do with you! And I'm not gonna stand around, watching you play God either. I'm telling Arthur right now."

Morgana took a few angry steps towards Merlin, pointing directly at him. "Stop being a fool! He won't believe you Merlin, you may be his friend, but I'm family!"

Merlin stopped in his tracks, turning an angry glare towards Morgana, letting her finish.

"And Gwen," Morgana laughed. "She_ definitely_ won't believe you; she's too naive. To her, I'm one of the few friends she's got. I'm the one who listens to her and helps her, the one girl friend she has to confide in, and has the utmost trust and respect for. You have no proof of anything. There's nothing you can do to stop me."

Merlin finally turned the door knob, not even bothering to look at Morgana again, his heart hurt too much.

* * *

><p>Arthur rolled his eyes as he looked over at his friend in the passenger seat of his parked car. "Damn Merlin, do you need an inhaler or somethin'?" Arthur scoffed as he undid his seatbelt, looking at Merlin who was frozen in a rigid position against the car door, his gaze across the street.<p>

Merlin looked at Arthur nervously, then back to the street. "Are you_ sure_ that's the one?"

Arthur looked down at the piece of paper, before handing it to Merlin who took it eagerly.

"How on earth did you get this?" Merlin asked as he looked down at the address which was written on the paper he held. "This is a little creepy…"

"I'm a Pendragon, remember? I have connections, and what I want, I get."

"Tell me about it," Merlin said throwing the paper to the floor of the car.

"So are you coming, or do I need to get you a paper bag to hyperventilate into?"

"I'm not nervous," Merlin said quickly.

"Whatever it is, you've been scatterbrained all morning. Just get your shit together, okay? And stop being a wimp."

"Ha! This coming from the guy who got beat up and told off by Vivian Remington."

Arthur narrowed his eyes angrily at Merlin, who stopped laughing immediately. "Fine. Stay in the car."

"No! I'm coming," Merlin said quickly, he too undoing his seatbelt.

Arthur took the keys out of the ignition, stuffing it into his pocket as he looked at the small grocery store which was across the street. "Good, I'm tired of sitting in this car."

"I still don't know how you convinced me to do this, how you drew me into your insanity…" Merlin grumbled, turning in his seat to watch a few customers enter and leave the store.

"Because like a good friend, you'll be there to support me."

"I feel like an accomplice to a crime…"

Arthur chuckled. "What crime? We're just going in there as two plain and ordinary customers."

"Arthur, the fact that you won't tell me how you came about the address of Lorenzo's family store is unnerving. I sure as hell know that Gwen didn't give it to you, and this isn't exactly our neck of the woods."

Arthur shook his head. "Don't worry about it," Arthur said for the hundredth time as he finally stepped out of his car, walking around the front as Merlin scrambled to get out too.

"Arthur, please don't do anything stupid," Merlin pleaded, as the pair waited for a couple of cars to pass.

"I won't. I just wanna talk to the guy."

The two friends crossed the street, Merlin muttering the entire time what a bad idea all of this was, and he was only doing this to make sure that Arthur didn't land himself in jail.

"Merlin, would you just shut the hell up!" Arthur hissed. "If you're gonna keep this up, you oughta wait in the car."

Merlin grabbed Arthur by the shoulder, causing him to stop. "How do you know that Lorenzo will even be here?"

"Guinevere said that since he broke his ankle, he's been working for his father as cashier. I know he'll be there."

Merlin let his hand fall off of his friend's shoulder, sighing as they took the few steps necessary to bring them in front of the small Spanish supermarket.

"Well, here it is; 'Supermercado de Camello'," Arthur said in a terrible accent. Both he and Merlin took a deep breath, as Arthur opened the door to the store, bells chiming over their heads as he did so. Both he and Merlin stepped in, immediately noticing the bakery in the back, and lines of shelves, and the cash register to the side where Lorenzo Camello stood, giving change to a boy, and his mother.

Lorenzo paused as he laid the bills down on the counter, counting rapidly in Spanish, looking up to find Merlin and Arthur. He looked at them briefly, before returning his attention to the transaction.

"I'll see you next week Maribel," Lorenzo said warmly in his native tongue.

The woman smiled up at him, turning to leave the store, giving Arthur and Merlin strange stares, and holding her boy a little closer as she passed them.

"Can I help you two?" Lorenzo asked, his confusion apparent in his tone as he gave the two friends a once over, before his face lit up. "You're Arthur Pendragon, right?" He asked, waving his index finger.

Arthur looked at Merlin quickly who seemed a little queasy, then back to Lorenzo. "Yes I am," Arthur moved to the counter, offering his hand for a shake.

Lorenzo happily obliged. "Lorenzo Camello."

"Yes I remember."

"Well it's nice to see you again, and…" Lorenzo looked over Arthur's shoulder at Merlin.

"I'm Merlin."

"Oh yeah, I remember you too. Well, you guys sure are far from home…" Lorenzo said looking around his store. "Are you here to buy anything?"

Arthur shoved his hands in his pockets, as he briefly scanned the store. "Actually, yes. We heard that you sold prayer candles."

Lorenzo's head tilted forward, and his eyebrows came together in confusion. "Prayer candles…?" Lorenzo took his hands, spreading them about ten inches apart. "You mean the tall and round glass candles?"

Arthur chuckled at Lorenzo's surprised reaction, as he heard Merlin snicker behind him as well. "I know, we're kinda like fish out of water here, but we're actually Catholics."

Lorenzo blinked, trying his best not to be rude. "Really?"

"Yeah, and Guinevere Gibson, one of my maids was telling me that you sell the candles we've been looking for. I thought I'd stop by, because I think you know how hard they are to come by in this town."

Lorenzo picked up his crutches which sat against the register, hoisting himself up, and moving to the front of the counter.

"Whoa," Arthur said in feigned astonishment as he pointed to Lorenzo's white cast around his left foot. "That's new."

Lorenzo looked down at his foot, then back to Arthur. "Yeah, I got injured up in New York. I fractured my ankle by falling on it, that's why I'm back home."

"Boy, that really sucks."

Lorenzo shrugged. "You have to roll with the punches. I was a little homesick anyway, so it's nice that I get a little break, to be with friends and family." Moving with the aid of his crutches, Lorenzo made his way to the back of the store, where all of the non-food items were, with Arthur and Merlin following close behind.

"This is a nice store you have here; I guess you sort of cornered the market," Arthur said.

Lorenzo stopped in front of the candles, nodding at Arthur's remark. "There aren't many Latinos here, but there were no grocery stores to meet their needs until my parents started this one. But it's not every day that we get two guys like you coming in," Lorenzo said with a laugh.

Arthur and Merlin merely nodded, turning to look at the shelf which was filled with the tall glass candles, each with their own picture and English and Spanish prayers on the side. Arthur reached out, picking the one nearest to him. "Gwen was right, these candles are very nice."

"I'll have to thank her the next time I see her for the recommendation."

Arthur set the candle back, picking up another as Merlin stood silently, taking no part in the conversation. "She's always talking about you, it's a wonder I didn't come here sooner!"

"Really?" Lorenzo asked as if he was surprised.

Arthur tried not to grimace at the radiant look of joy which Lorenzo sported at his comment. "Oh yeah. I think I've even seen you drop her off a couple of times."

"You probably did. The woman she usually rides with has been sick, and I've just been helping her out. She's a good friend, a real blessing since I've been injured."

"Really? How so?" Arthur asked, folding his arms over his chest.

"Uhh, she comes with me to doctors appointments, and sometimes asks more questions than me. She'll visit me at the store sometimes on Saturdays, and bring me lunch or wait for me to get off. She's just a very sweet girl all around, and I'm lucky to have someone like her."

Arthur chuckled, trying not to make it sound too forced. "The way you talk about her, she sounds like more than a friend…"

It was Lorenzo who chuckled this time, his soft brown eyes illuminating as he tilted back.

Merlin and Arthur shot each other quick glances, before Lorenzo opened his eyes again.

"Ah, I'm afraid not my friend. I missed that boat a long time ago. No, she's an awesome girl, but that's really it. We both don't have many friends, but she's enough for me."

Arthur nodded, dropping his arms to his side so he could pick another candle. He looked down at it quickly, then back to Lorenzo. "I think I'll take this one, then."

Merlin too reached for a candle, deciding to take two. "I'll take these."

Lorenzo smiled, turning to make his way back to the cash register. He set them against the register, as he took the three candles, beginning to wrap each in newspaper."Well I'm glad we had what you wanted."

Merlin finally broke his silence, as he cleared his throat. "So Lorenzo, when will you be out of your cast?"

"In a couple of weeks. But I won't be fighting for a good while."

"You box, right?" Merlin asked, scratching his head.

"Yeah, I do. That's why I was in New York, I got offered a pretty nice contract."

"Will you be going back?" Arthur asked immediately, warranting a glare from Merlin.

Lorenzo set the candles into paper bags, keeping his gaze on his task. "I'm not sure, most likely I will be. But who knows, I can't exactly see into the future. I didn't really like it up there though, but I love boxing. But I have plenty of time to make that decision, my friend."

Arthur and Merlin nodded as they each took their bag from Lorenzo. Arthur took a ten dollar bill out of his pocket, laying it down on the register. "Keep the change."

Lorenzo's eyes widened, as he held up the bill. "I can't, this is far too much!" Lorenzo immediately opened the cash register to give Arthur and Merlin the appropriate change, until Arthur spoke.

"Don't sweat it. Any friend of Gwen's is a friend of mine. Take care Lorenzo," Arthur said with a genuine smile, as he and Merlin took steps towards the door.

Merlin waved. "Thank you, we'll be back."

"Merry Christmas!" Lorenzo said with a wave.

Merlin held the door for Arthur, giving Lorenzo a wave in returne, before joining his friend outside. The moment the door to the small grocery store closed, Merlin exhaled deeply, as if he had been holding his breath for two minutes.

"Calm down, jeez."

"Are you satisfied now, Arthur?"

Arthur grinned slightly, at his stern friend. "I am."

"That was such a waste of time, I could've told you everything he was gonna say."

Arthur stuck his candle under his arm as he zipped up his jacket. "Well I heard it from him, and that's all that matters. He's not after Guinevere, and now he never has to come up ever again."

Merlin rolled his eyes as he and Merlin crossed the street once more. "I can't believe how well that went," Merlin said, any irritation dissipating as he laughed to himself.

"I should've known, I trust Guinevere, and her judge of character. She's a smart girl," Arthur said, unlocking his car door. Arthur leaned over, unlocking Merlin's door as well from the inside, with his friend jumping in a moment later. "Let's go home now."

"Let's."

Arthur put his key back into the ignition, turning it with joy. As soon as he got home, he'd give Gwen a hundred kisses.

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired by: "I'll Shut You Down" by This Romantic Tragedy<em>


	23. Chapter 23

_Has the "Merlin" relapse kicked in yet? Mine is still minimal…but just wait. Anyway, without further adieu, I proudly present to you Chapter 23! I can't believe I'm 23 chapters in, I thought I would've given up by now, but alas, the creative juices continue to flow!_

_I would like to say thank you to everyone who reads and comments, I really didn't think so many people would respond to something I cooked up with my mom whilst I was drying dishes one afternoon! Thanks for all the Story Alert subscriptions, and adding me to your favorites; it really does mean a lot. And the comments as well; they really do warm my heart, and make me laugh more than you could imagine! And a special hello and tip of the hat to all of the new readers out there; go tell all of your friends about MLMS!_

_BTW, I was rereading last week's chapter….sorry for all the typos :/ Sometimes being your own beta has hiccups…_

_YoureAnIllusion_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 23: Stalemate <strong>

Arthur put his car into park in Merlin's driveway covering his mouth as he yawned, even though it was hardly past two o'clock. He and his friend had just returned from their minor investigation at Lorenzo's family store which had brightened Arthur's mood exponentially; he had been smiling and singing along with the radio the entire way to Merlin's house.

"Are you coming over tonight for dinner?" Arthur finally asked, dialing the radio down. "I hear Stella's making that peach cobbler you like so much…"

Merlin looked at his dry hands, rubbing them together as a distraction. "Uhh, I don't know about tonight, Arthur."

Arthur's eyebrows immediately shot up. "What do you mean? You practically have a room at my house. It won't be a Pendragon family dinner without you….And you can't leave me there alone with Vivian and Morgana! I won't make it out alive!"

Merlin cleared his throat. "We'll see; no promises though."

Arthur looked at Merlin, clearly analyzing him as his friend kept his gaze on one of the candles he had just purchased from Lorenzo. After a while, Arthur simply shrugged. "Alright. Morgana will miss you though, I'm sure."

Merlin resisted a snort, as he swallowed the automatic retort which came to mind. "She'll get over it, trust me." Merlin looked up at Arthur, before wincing as he looked at the dark bruise which had become more pronounced on his cheek.

"What?" Arthur asked, raising a brow at Merlin's physical response.

Merlin began to laugh heartily, his eyes becoming so narrow that they nearly disappeared. "Vivian got you good, didn't she!" He asked through chuckles.

"What the hell are you babbling 'bout now?"

"Your left cheek is swelling up like a hot air balloon!"

Arthur scoffed as he lifted up from his seat, looking into his car mirror at the damage Vivian had caused. His fingers ran along his linear bruise, sighing as he shook his head. "That girl's a real fucking piece of work."

Merlin was finally able to contain his laughter, resting a hand on his middle as the last remnants of amusement dwindled. "What are you gonna tell Gwen? That your ex-girlfriend beat you up?"

Arthur turned to Merlin in fury. "Vivian didn't beat me up, _Merlin_! So would you quit sayin' that?"

Merlin put up his hands defensively with a smile.

Arthur looked back in the small mirror at the darkened flesh on his cheek, before looking away quickly. "I don't know what I'll tell Guinevere. The truth, I guess."

Merlin couldn't swallow the chuckle this time. "Good luck with that!" He said opening Arthur's car door.

"I hope you come tonight!" Arthur said quickly just before Merlin closed the door, offering him a wave.

Gwen looked at her watch, as she shrugged on her jacket, pushing her purse onto her right shoulder as she breezed through the kitchen. "Bye Miss Stella, have a merry Christmas!"

"You too honey! Tell your papa and Elliot that I said 'hi'."

"I will," Gwen assured her, quickly opening the door to the employee entrance, immediately met by the December chill in the air. Scanning the lot, Gwen found Lorenzo's car to the left, and she nearly ran to it, wanting to get out of the cold as soon as possible.

* * *

><p>"Oh Lorenzo, I'm so sorry!" Gwen apologized, stepping into Lorenzo's warm car. "You must've been waiting for the longest time," Gwen groaned.<p>

Lorenzo's neck had just been rolling forward, beginning to drift into sleep before Gwen came in. He ran a hand over his face, then through his hair. "You're workin Gwen, don't sweat it," Lorenzo assured her starting up the car. He looked at his inexpensive wristwatch. "I've only been here for twenty minutes," he said with a smile.

"Okay," Gwen said, sliding her purse off of her shoulders, and setting it on the floor, snapping in her seatbelt next.

"You look happy; did you have a good day?" Lorenzo asked as he turned in his seat, setting his car into reverse.

"It was ordinary. But I'm really excited for dinner tonight," Gwen said grinning as she looked towards Lorenzo, who kept his gaze straight ahead on the black cast iron gates of the Estate, waiting for them to open.

"Yeah…but I'm really nervous."

"What! Nervous? It's just my daddy and Elliot."

"I know, but still…"

"Trust me," Gwen said turning to him even though he couldn't exactly look at her. "If Daddy invites you to dinner, it means he really likes you. Plus, you've spoken to him before, and he hasn't gotten his shotgun out yet, so I think you're okay," Gwen quipped.

"That's not funny," Lorenzo groaned, easing his foot onto the break to halt at a red light. "And it's always been small talk. Never anything that people talk about at dinner."

"You'll be fine, I promise."

"I know, you're probably right, but…do you think he could be getting the wrong idea about us? I feel sort of bad…"

Gwen looked at Lorenzo, blinking a couple of times before she sat back into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest.

Lorenzo waited at silence, turning his head quickly to look at her a couple of times. "I haven't upset you, have I?"

"No, no, you haven't."

"What is it then?"

Gwen sighed, more out of annoyance then relief, as her arms quickly unfolded. "It's just that I'm sick havin' to explain you to people! And I shouldn't have to do that with my daddy too, of all people,_ he_ should know."

"…Explain me?"

"Everywhere I go, it seems that you always come up in the conversation. People I hardly even know ask about you." Gwen made her voice higher than her natural tone, as she began to mimic the gossiping women in her church and neighborhood. "'Oh honey girl, when are you and that boy gonna get hitched? You're already twenty, and he sure is a handsome fella.'"

Lorenzo couldn't help but snicker. "They say that about me?" He asked pointing to his chest.

"Or if they really have no manners, I'll hear something like: 'Girl, I saw you and that light-skinned boy the other day by the park…he aint got no white blood in him, do he?'"

The volume of Lorenzo's laughter increased at that comment, but he quieted to let Gwen finish.

"I'm really getting tired of it. People just need to shut up, and mind their own business!" Gwen exclaimed all in one breath, warranting a wide-eyed expression of shock and mild fear from Lorenzo.

"I've never really seen you get upset before…"

"Yeah, well I'm quickly reachin' my last straw."

"Listen Gwen, people will talk; they always have and they always will. Soon, the idea of you and I will get old—" Lorenzo cut off his sentence, before adding quickly: "I m-mean, there is no 'you and I', so it doesn't really matter."

"I know it doesn't."

"And we know the truth. That we're just friends; two people who get along really well, but you just happen to be a really pretty girl."

Gwen grinned, sure that her cheeks were taking on color. "Well I'm glad at least we understand each other."

Lorenzo just silently nodded slightly as he swallowed, returning his full attention to the road.

* * *

><p>Gwen stood on her doorstep, watching Lorenzo nervously tap his foot, as he tried to fix his slightly crinkled collar. "Lorenzo, you're practically shaking," Gwen said, trying her best not to laugh, as he finally managed to smooth out his collar. He was so anxious that it was adorable.<p>

"I know, it's just—you know how I am when I'm nervous. I say stupid things, I speak really fast, my thoughts get jumbled. What if your dad finally decides he doesn't like me, and then he really_ does_ get his shot gun out?"

"I shouldn't have said that. You know I was just kidding, right?"

"I know I'm gonna say the wrong thing, and mess everything up. I know how protective your father is with you, and he already thinks that we're dating, so I'm pretty sure this meal is to find out what my intentions are with you, or—"

Gwen took a step close to Lorenzo, causing him to close his mouth quickly as she moved his jacket further over his shoulder, straightening it out, wearing a wide smile. "Look, Lorenzo, it's _just_supper, I'm sure of it. No interrogation, no trick questions, no hostility; and if he tries any of that, I'll stop him." Gwen's hands fell to her side, as she took a step back, giving Lorenzo a full onceover. "You look great; neat and handsome."

The comment calmed Lorenzo's nerves a little, as he grinned.

"That's better. Now just relax; this dinner will go over without any trouble, and we'll have plenty more just like this one, you'll see."

Lorenzo nodded, opening his mouth to speak before he heard Gwen's front door whoosh open, with Tom Gibson sticking his head out, followed by him opening the door even wider.

"What are y'all doin' out here in the cold?" Tom looked at his watch, before throwing his hands up. "And don't you kids these days have watches or somethin'?"

Gwen looked at her wristwatch, shaking her head at her father's statements. "We're not even fifteen minutes late, Daddy."

"Not even fifteen minutes late." Tom scoffed as he repeated his daughter's words, walking back into his home. "So what, we're on 'CP time' now?"

Gwen stepped over her threshold, gently easing a perplexed Lorenzo in by tugging at his bicep, as he whispered into her ear: "what's 'CP time'?"

Gwen stifled a giggle as her hand fell from his arm. "Remind me to tell you later." Gwen moved to the coat-rack which was by the door, turning Lorenzo around to take his jacket off.

He put his arms back to ease her efforts. "Ah, thanks Gwen, you didn't have to do that."

"It's my house, you're our guest."

Lorenzo nodded as Gwen hung the jacket up, straightening his collar for the second before spotting Elliot, who was walking down the hall from his bedroom.

"Lorenzo, you made it!" Elliot said happily.

"Of course, I've been looking forward to it all week."

Tom walked past Lorenzo, into the kitchen where he picked up some plates that were resting on the counter. "Is it hot in here or somethin' Lorenzo? You're sweating like it's July."

Gwen cut her eyes at her ever straight forward father as she motioned for Lorenzo to sit down at the table. "Cut it out," she whispered, swatting Tom's arm as she stood next to him, picking up their best silver utensils.

"It smells really good Mr. Gibson—" Lorenzo began, uncomfortable with the silence

"Call me 'Tom'."

"—Tom. Did you do the cooking?"

Tom and Elliot looked at each other for a moment, before each throwing his head back with gut-wrenching laughter, causing another confused expression from Lorenzo. Tom caught his breath, shaking his head as he swallowed the last of his chuckles. "I wouldn't be inviting you nowhere if it was me doin' the cooking, unless I was fixin' to poison you!"

Gwen offered Lorenzo an apologetic smile, as she bent over the table, setting out the forks and knives.

"Nah Lorenzo. Gwen fixed the supper last night, so Pop and I just put stuff in the oven, and on the stove."

Lorenzo grinned, watching Elliot set a steaming bowl of mashed potatoes in front of him. "Well, I'd say that you all did a fantastic job."

Tom reached over his daughter, bringing down a couple of glasses. "Oh, just wait 'til you taste Gwen's cookin'; it's next to Heaven!"

Gwen blushed at her father's compliment. "Well, let's Lorenzo be the judge of that."

* * *

><p>Merlin continued to whistle the song which had been playing on his radio as he turned the engine to his car off, reaching to the backseat where he picked up the two Christmas gifts he was bringing to the Pendragon dinner that night. He didn't bother locking his car door, sure that his vehicle would be free from harm during the short dinner. Though he hadn't planned on coming because he wanted to avoid Morgana and Vivian, he changed his mind when he realized that the alternative was a night alone.<p>

He placed broth presents under his right arm, whistling all the way to the stone steps which led to the main entrance, before as he whistled all the way to the steps, before he heard his name being called out from behind.

Vivian Remington emerged from the side of the stone steps, resting on a wall, but pushing herself off of it once she saw Merlin saunter out of his car without a care in the world. She made eye contact with him as he stopped in his tracks, watching her take one last drag from her cigarette, throwing it down into the grass and stomping it out.

Vivian walked towards Merlin coolly, pointed to his slightly open mouth. "You may wanna shut that trap of yours; didn't your mama ever tell you bugs can get up in there?" Vivian's eyes narrowed as Merlin continued to stare at her, but this time with a closed mouth.

"I thought smoking made you sick?" Merlin asked Vivian coldly. "Or…we're you lying 'bout that too?"

Vivian looked up the steps quickly at the closed front door, and through the living room window where she could see Morgana and Arthur sitting on the couch, and Uther walking about. "You aint one to beat around the bush then, are you, bean pole? I guess I can respect that."

Merlin scoffed. "I'd rather not have your respect." He spun on his heels, lifting his leg to take the first step, before he felt one of Vivian's small hands wrap around his slender arm. He looked down at her light hand, as if it were some alien object. "What are you doing?"

"I smoke every once in a while to calm my nerves," Vivian informed him, her tone devoid of hostility.

Merlin raised an eye brow, as he stared at her in pure amazement. She was definitely a rare breed. "I don't care." He looked down at her hand which remained on his arm, jerking it away violently, nearly dropping the presents. "Get off of me; I don't wanna catch whatever it is you and Morgana got."

Vivian laughed genuinely, clapping her hands together quickly in mock applause. "Well, well, well, you aren't all skin and bones then? You got some wit, don't you?" She snarled, grinning in amusement.

Merlin said nothing as he shifted the two presents for better grip.

"Morgana told me everything, about the little chit-chat y'all had. I wasn't surprised; you always were nosy. And you've been a nigger lover since we were youngins. I reckon it's gone to your head now."

Merlin's eyes widened, before narrowing again in anger. "Gwen's not a nigger, so quit calling her that. You don't even know her."

Vivian shrugged, with no intention on arguing over some minute detail. "You know one colored; you know 'em all."

"You're sick."

"And you're foolish."

Merlin looked up towards the illuminated living room, with its drapes pulled to the side, and the home's occupants milling about. "Listen, everything I wanted—needed to say, I said to your _master_, Morgana."

Vivian reached out, grabbing Merlin tightly by the lapel of his jacket, pulling him closer, and nearly causing him to drop his gifts for the second time. She relished the quick burst of shock, perhaps fear which she detected in Merlin's eyes as she brought her voice down to a harsh whisper. "Now you listen up good Merlin. You can be the problem, or the solution. If you're fixing to sit around, and watch your 'friend' degrade himself with a Negro whore, then you go right ahead; that's on your conscience."

Merlin pushed Vivian off of him, brushing off his jacket with his left hand, nearly tripping backwards over the first step. He caught his balance quickly. "Conscience? Conscience! How dare you even say that word; you and Morgana are nothing but liars! But Morgana, at least she has a good excuse for all of this, no matter how warped it is. But you—" Merlin gave Vivian a quick once over, doing nothing to hide his sheer all encompassing disgust for her. "But you, you're more pathetic than she is. It's truly sad because you think that you can still get Arthur back."

"Shut up, Merlin."

"You're just angry thay he'd rather be with a colored maid than you!"

Vivian pointed towards Merlin's chest, levying a throaty warning. "You…shut…up."

"You're the most pitiful girl I know. Gwen maybe a colored, but at least she has a soul. I can't say that much for you Vivian."

"You have no idea what you're talking 'bout!"

Merlin laughed ironically, not yet finished with his scathing assessment. "The sad thing is that Arthur still won't look twice at you; even with all your makeup and fancy clothes," Merlin slowed his speech, making it more deliberate as he leaned closer to Vivian, "it must kill you that Arthur chose some poor 'nigger whore' you." Merlin took a step back, clearing his throat as he watched the livid Vivian nearly vibrate in her anger, her rigid arms locked to her side, and her small hands curling into fists. Merlin knew that she aching to hit him, but she wouldn't dare be so violent in front of Uther.

Merlin scoffed, as he turned from Vivian, jogging up a couple of stairs before stopping. "Oh, Viv, you may want to take another cig and 'calm your nerves' before you go inside." Merlin spun back around, taking the remainder of the steps two at a time as he let out a deep breath. It felt good to finally tell Vivian off, but he didn't even get to the half of it! She was luckier than she realized…

"Merlin, you made it!" Arthur exclaimed, patting his friend on the back who seemed to be in a daze as he practically strolled into the warm home.

"Of course, I had to bring over some gifts." Merlin's attention turned to Morgana who leaned on the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest as she analyzed Merlin, her contempt for him apparent.

Arthur turned to his cousin quickly, finding her grimacing unnaturally. "Uhh, Morgana; let Father know Merlin's here."

Morgana pushed herself off of the doorframe, walking to Merlin. "You go tell him, I want a little chat with Merlin, if you don't mind?"

Arthur's shoulders slumped, as he nodded, disappearing a few moments later, Morgana pivoted her head, watching her cousin walk into the living room.

"You can quit smiling now. We both know it's fake," Merlin stated with dead pan bluntness.

Morgana snapped to Merlin, her smile indeed evaporating as soon as it had come. "Where's Vivian?"

Merlin shrugged.

"Don't shrug at me. I saw you talking to her."

"Well you answered your own question then, didn't you?"

Morgana rolled her eyes, as her gaze diverted to the gifts under Merlin's arms.

Merlin lifted the smaller one, putting on a fake smile of his own. "Don't worry. One's for you."

Morgana rolled her eyes for the second time, before she brushed past Merlin, intentionally bumping into his shoulder as she opened the front door, slamming it on her way out.

Arthur rushed back into the foyer, looking at the front door which he heard slam all the way from the dining room. "What the hell? Did you scare Morgana off?" Arthur asked, stretching out his arms for an explanation.

Merlin kept his stare on the door as he answered Arthur. "I'm sure she'll be back."

* * *

><p>Tom picked up the paper napkin which was tucked at the left side of his plate, wiping his mouth quickly. "Now Lorenzo, I'm sure you've heard enough 'mechanic talk'."<p>

"I sure have," Gwen murmured, picking at her chicken.

"What was that?"

Gwen looked up at her father quickly. "Nothin' Daddy. Go on."

"Any way, tell us a little about your work. Gwen tells us that your family owns a grocery store? Not everyone can say that!"

"It's not much to boast of. It's a small store, and we sell…Hispanic stuff. Like food, and items you can only get in South America. But we have been blessed with faithful and kind customers."

"And you're the cashier, right?" Elliot asked, before picking up his glass of milk which he loudly slurped, warranting a glare from his sister, causing him to set the glass back down with caution.

Lorenzo grinned at the exchange. "Yes, I am. It's great, I get to interact with all the people I missed while I was in New York. I even meet new people."

"That's good," Elliot said, stuffing his mouth full of mashed potatoes.

Lorenzo laughed as he set his fork on the side of his plate. "Today, the strangest thing happened," Lorenzo turned to Gwen, who looked up at him expectantly. "Your boss and his friend came in."

Gwen paused, she too resting her fork down. "My…boss?" She asked slowly, sure that she had misheard.

"Yeah," Lorenzo said with a chuckle. "Crazy, right? Yeah, Arthur and Merlin—what a funny name. But they were real nice fellas, we talked for a little. Arthur, was really talkative, but I liked him. He's not the way that people say he is."

"Ha!" Elliot burst out from his side of the table, warranting curious stares from the table's other three occupants, causing him to clear his throat. "I mean—was he now? What were they buying?"

"Uhh, prayer candles. But we got to talking along the way. He asked me 'bout New York, my family, he even mentioned you Gwen!"

Gwen's hands fell into her lap as she stared down at her plate, her throat going dry, and her stomach knotting as soon as she heard Lorenzo's words. Arthur and Merlin were at his store? How did they find it, and more importantly; why were they there? It was nearly forty minutes away from their homes, and in a part of town they wouldn't be caught dead in. Immediately, Gwen knew something wasn't right.

"What's wrong baby, it looks like you done seen a ghost?" Tom asked peering at his daughter.

Elliot expressed a tight grin, ignoring his father's inquiry, and setting his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together. "He mentioned Gwen, really? Aww, that's so nice; aint that nice _Gwen_?" Elliot looked at his sister who was literally gritting her teeth together.

Tom put some food into his mouth, chewing before speaking. "What's some rich whitey doin' talking 'bout Gwen? She just works for him."

Gwen took a deep breath slowly picking up her utensils in an attempt to maintain some type of normalcy. "Yeah, I've spoken to Arthur a couple of times, he's not all bad," Gwen said quietly, looking down at her food. She wished Lorenzo would just drop the subject.

"Really, he aint Gwen?" Elliot probed looking his sister directly in the eyes, gripping his fork and knife tightly, matching his sister's gaze with intensity.

Gwen looked up at her brother, wondering why he was acting like this; in front of their father no less. "No, he isn't, Elliot."

Tom's head swiveled back and forth, looking at his two children who seemed to be engaged in a silent duel. "…Did I miss somethin'? What's come over y'all?"

Lorenzo too looked back and forth between Elliot and, a little frightened and uncomfortable at the drastic change in mood…was it something he said?

Gwen broke down first, looking away, and Elliot did the same, stuffing more food into his mouth.

"It's nothin' Pop. I just didn't know Gwen was so friendly with a white boy. That's all."

"Elliot—you don't know what you're talking about. So just can it."

Elliot held up his hands defensively. "Hey there's no reason to get defensive Gwen, I'm just asking."

Tom cleared his throat deeply, and it was the only warning that Elliot needed. He was silent for the rest of dinner.

* * *

><p>"Merlin, really, thank you for the gift. You're too thoughtful, son. I'll put it under the tree as soon as you leave." Uther joyously thanked the young man, as he turned over his wrapped box in inspection.<p>

Merlin nodded, extending his arms to the sofa seat, where Morgana's gift sat. "Morgana!"

Morgana stood conversing with Vivian at the opposite side of the room, startled by Merlin's sudden address. "Yes?" She asked as sweetly as possible.

Merlin lifted up the rectangular present, enticing Morgana from the opposite side of the room. "You can't forget your gift."

"Why, thank you Merlin," Morgana said as if she was unsure, resisting the urge she had of snatching it out of his hands all together.

"Now, I know you'll be anxious to open it," Merlin began with a knowing smile. "But wait 'til Christmas to open it."

Morgana was able to muster a smile, despite her feelings; she had too much practice, after all. "Of course; I won't peek. Christmas is only tomorrow."

Merlin looked down at his present with a smile, before turning to Uther, shaking his hand. "Thanks again for dinner, and I'll see you all on Christmas."

"Well, merry Christmas to you then Merlin."

"You too."

"Merlin, I'll walk out with you," Arthur chimed in, patting his friend on the back.

Merlin nodded, only to see Morgana scurry out of the living room, nearly dragging Vivian with her.

* * *

><p>Morgana rushed inside of her room, barking at Vivian who was trailing behind her, out of breath. "Close the door, will ya? I don't want the entire house knowing my business."<p>

Vivian did as she was told, walking toward Morgana who eyed her present with curiosity. The box in her hands was quite handsome; with green and red wrapping paper, with a matching bow a top; it was almost a shame to unwrap it.

"Are you gonna open it?" Vivian asked the obvious, craning her neck for a better view.

Morgana conceded that the question wasn't worthy of a reply, so instead she quickly tore off the thin wrapping paper, completely revealing a white cardboard box in a matter of seconds. Morgana put the box on top of her palm, moving her hand up in down in the air to gauge the object's weight.

Vivian lifted her hand to bite her nails, before mentally chiding herself. "Jeez, just open it!"

Morgana looked up at Vivian, before lifting up the lid of the box. "Merlin…"

Vivian moved next to Morgana, only to have her back turned to her, blocking the blonde's view of the gift. "Well, what is it then?"

Morgana slowly turned to Vivian, her mouth stuck in a rigid frown, as the box fell to the floor next to the wrapping paper, and Morgana held up a medium-sized leather bound book with elaborate decoration on the front.

"A…diary?" Vivian asked quizzically.

Morgana looked down at the book, shaking her head. "I bet he thinks he's clever."

Without warning, Vivian snatched the diary into her own hands. "Where the hell did Merlin get all of this courage—audacity from?" Vivian snarled, as she opened the diary to the first page, before laughing. "Look, the bean pole wrote a note."

"What? Give that back," Morgana demanded, taking her present back. She looked up at Vivian then down to the open page.

'_Morgana: I hope you like your new diary. I'm sure you'll fill it with lots of exciting memories.'_

Morgana snapped the book shut, resulting in a loud clap which echoed throughout the quiet room. "So, Merlin wants to play games, huh?" Morgana threw the book across the room in a fury, causing Vivian to yelp and jump out of its way.

"Jeez! Watch where you throw that thing!"

Morgana rolled her eyes as she walked past Vivian with determination.

"Wait, where are you going!" Vivian asked alarmed, as Morgana stopped in front of her door.

"You should go home. I won't be much company tonight." Morgana didn't take time to close the door, causing it to slam, leaving Vivian inside her room, alone.

* * *

><p>It was the day after Christmas, and despite all of her new things, and the festivities of the day before, Morgana was hardly content. Merlin's little stunt had truly burned her up to her core. He was a hypocrite. From Merlin's own lips, he told her that he was not even remotely interested in playing games with her, yet, what was he doing now? Merlin wanted to think of himself as the chivalrous gentleman who stood up for justice and equality, and <em>love<em>, yet he had no idea just how much he was like her. They were two sides of the same coin.

After all, Morgana had noted that Merlin was beginning to think just like she was, and he too had to play two different parts. On some occasions, he passed himself off as the quiet and awkward nerd, who didn't talk to girls, and only had a handful of friends (if that). Yet, slowly, Merlin's resilience was being revealed to Morgana, and she only wished that it didn't have to be in these circumstances. But this is the way things were; this was the mess Arthur and Guinevere had created. Merlin was now a mere casualty…and deep down, she still wished that things had turned out differently. But, that was one situation she couldn't control.

Morgana sat up in her bed as she heard Arthur's car pull up the driveway, followed by the opening and closing of the front door, and laughter from he and Merlin. Even in her solitude, Morgana couldn't resist rolling her eyes.

"I wish Merlin didn't have to come over here all the time," Morgana huffed as she pushed herself out of bed; her rumbling stomach reminded her just how hungry she was, and dinner wasn't for another couple of hours. Her stocking feet glided across the hardwood floor, making her way into the hall way just in time to catch Arthur and Merlin jogging up the steps, waving at her dismissively, obviously busy with something else. That was just fine with her.

Morgana made a straight bee-line to the kitchen, surprised to find it much quieter than normal. Alice had returned from her leave of absence that day, but neither she nor Stella or Marge could be found chatting and laughing boisterously as the always were. Instead, Morgana found Gwen alone, scrubbing a counter with an unusual intensity. Morgana's eye brows rose at the sight of Gwen scrubbing the marble counter furiously, her eyes glued on the speckled counter. In fact, Gwen was so engrossed in her task, that she didn't notice Morgana resting against the wall, watching her with curiosity.

Gwen's bowed head finally raised once she heard Morgana's voice, gentle and sweet.

"Gwen, what'd the counter ever do to you?"

Gwen looked up to find Morgana watching her from the doorway, and she immediately dropped the rag, self-consciously wiping her eyes, though they were dry, though a little red, and slightly inflamed. It was clear that she had been crying earlier.

Morgana moved closer to Gwen, only to have her inch back slightly. "Are you alright Gwen? You've been crying, I can tell."

Gwen tucked a stray curl behind her ear, before letting her arms fall to her side with a shrug. "Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about me," Gwen said waving a dismissive hand, wearing a terribly unconvincing smile.

"…No you're not."

Gwen picked up the rag which Morgana stood beside, tossing it in the sink. "I don't mean to be rude, but I really don't want to talk now Morgana, maybe later."

Morgana slowly turned around as Gwen brushed past her, sniffling the entire way out. Morgana waited about ten seconds before she too left the kitchen, following Gwen, up the stairs, and then in front of Arthur's bed room. Quickly, to avoid detection, Morgana ducked into the hallway directly next to Arthur's room, watching Gwen knock against his door with fervor, holding something to her side, which Morgana couldn't see from her position.

Merlin opened the door quickly, smiling brightly as he saw Gwen. "Gwen, hi! How are—" Merlin's greeting quickly died as he took a good look at Gwen.

"Who is it?" Arthur called out from the bathroom, the tap of the sink turning off moments later, and Arthur walking into his bedroom, drying his hands on a towel. He immediately illuminated as he saw Gwen, but then his smile faded as he looked to Merlin for an explanation. He walked to her, resting a hand on her shoulder soothingly, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Guinevere, what's wrong?"

Gwen didn't mean to, but she slightly flinched at Arthur's soft touch, taking a step away from him. "Merlin should go," Gwen suggested, looking Arthur directly into his worried blue eyes.

"Guinevere, you're scaring me…" Arthur's voice trailed off.

Gwen shoved the long glass cylinder prayer candle she was holding directly into Arthur's chest, making him stumble backward, reflexively grabbing the object which was thrust into his middle so that it wouldn't fall.

"What's…" Arthur began, before he looked down, finally realizing what it was he has holding. His mouth immediately closed, as he looked Gwen in her fiery eyes.

"Merlin _needs _to go," Gwen corrected her previous statement.

Merlin watched the entire exchange wide eyed, pointing to the slightly ajar door, his words jumbling together. "Uhmm, yeah. I think I'll be going now. I'll give y'all some privacy." Merlin didn't think he could stay in the room for another moment, rushing out as fast as his long legs could take him, turning directly to his right, colliding into Morgana.

Morgana quickly pushed Merlin off, clearly revolted that he had made such full on contact with her, as she brushed off her pants.

"What the hell are you doin' out here?" Merlin asked the moment he realized what Morgana was doing. "Hell, you really have no shame!" Merlin hissed in a whisper.

"Oh, can your high and mighty shit. Don't pretend like you weren't fixin' to do the same thing, Merlin."

"You are one twisted—"

"Shhh! If you're gonna talk, go somewhere else!" Morgana hissed in return, holding up her hand for silence, pointing to Arthur's bedroom door which Merlin had left partially open. The two forgot about their distaste for one another as they listened intently to the argument which was beginning.

"Arthur…you've _really_ crossed the line this time."

"Gwen, it's not what it looks like."

"Are you serious Arthur? How stupid do you think I am? You just happened to wander into Lorenzo's store, and I just became the topic of the conversation by chance? Give me a break, Gwen scoffed.

Merlin and Morgana hid in the shadows of the hall way, waiting for Arthur's response, yet careful not to move and create any creaks against the hardwood floor. But after a pregnant pause neither Arthur nor Gwen spoke.

Merlin sighed, rubbing his throbbing forehead; this was an "I told you so" moment. He knew this would happen eventually, and now he was hiding behind a wall with Morgana, whose red lips were slightly curved upward at the dense silence and its implications. "I bet this is like another Christmas present for you, Morgana."

Morgana looked sharply at Merlin, then turning her gaze back to the slightly ajar door. She opened her mouth to respond in a whisper, before Arthur and Gwen's conversation resumed.

"You're just totally incapable of trusting any one." Gwen's voice was no longer angry, but laden with sorrow.

Merlin watched Morgana's smile fade slightly, as he too listened to the rest.

"So, you're not going to even defend yourself Arthur? You have nothing to say about any of this?"

"Fine," Arthur blurted out, his irritation apparent. "You're right Guinevere; I _did_ go his store, and it was because I wanted to check out this guy Lorenzo, and see for myself what he's like."

"Arthur! We've been over this a thousand times."

"And every time, your answers have fallen short."

"You only believe what you want to. The problem is you, not me."

"I'm the problem? You're the one that's been lying about this guy since day one!"

"That's not true!"

Arthur audibly scoffed. "First, you just happen to_ forget_ to mention that you had some boyfriend in Chile when you and I were both getting interested in one another."

"We weren't even together then, Arthur!"

"But you knew the feelings were there Guinevere, you_ knew_. And the day I met him, my heart broke because I felt like a total fool. So that was lie number one."

"Oh, so there's a list!" Gwen asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Yeah, you bet there's a list! Lie number two was when you failed to inform me that not only was this ex of yours back in town from New York, but that you were spending every waking moment with him. I have to find out from big mouth Marge that you and he are hopping all over town together! So excuse me Gwen, if I don't exactly believe everything you say about him. "

"Arthur, I can't believe that I'm turning into the bad guy here when you're the one who was spying on me!"

"Please," Arthur sneered, "I'm a free man who can go wherever he wants. And if I want to go to Lorenzo's store, and buy a damn candle, I will! But now I finally understand why you keep him around; why this guy keeps popping up, and wrecking things for us!"

"He's not wrecking anything! It's you, and your silly insecurities. A little jealousy I can understand Arthur, a little worry; okay. But when you go practically _undercover_, to question my friend—you've gone too far. The only one to blame in this is you!"

"So you just don't have to take any responsibility for all of your lies?" There was a pause. "I thought so. I finally understand everything now. I've been such an idiot."

"There's nothing to understand, here."

"Yeah there is; it's simple. You're colored, he's colored—Lorenzo's your stable option, you're just keeping him around for safe keeping for when you're through with me! "

The moment Arthur's callous words left his lips, Merlin felt as if he had suffered from whip lash. This conversation, if it could still be called that, was not going well at all. Merlin could hear Morgana's breath hitch in her throat as well as she heard Arthur's last bitter words.

"Is this what you wanted Morgana? Are you finally happy now?" Merlin hissed, looking Morgana directly in the eye.

"We both knew this would happen eventually. They're too different."

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired by: "Stalemate" by Enter Shikari<em>


	24. Chapter 24

_I HAD SOME SERIOUS PROBLEMS GETTING THIS CHAPTER UP, SO I HOPE YOU APPRECIATE IT! :D_

_Hooray for lots of ArWen and angsty stuff (this_ is_ a romance story…), and "evil" Morgana (sorta): my two favorite things to write! Leave me a comment, and let me know what you thought of this week's chapter. I had so much fun writing this one, and thanks for all of the responses I received last week! I'm so blessed to have so many loyal readers; I appreciate all of you, whether you comment or not. And judging from last week's ratings, it seems that you guys have told your friends about "MLMS"! Thanks! _

_Random Question:__ In your opinion, who do you think is more "evil"; Vivian or Morgana? Of course I have my opinion, but I'm curious to see what yours is!_

_**P.S.**__ Writing the first scene,_ I_ got a little teary eyed, maybe you will too :'(_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24: It's Just Better for Everyone<strong>

"So you just don't have to take any responsibility for all of your lies?" Arthur's angry blue eyes never wavered as he awaited a response from the suddenly quiet Gwen.

Instead, she shuffled her feet slightly against the hardwood, gulping loudly.

"Ha! That's what I thought. I finally understand everything now. I've been such an idiot." Arthur said with an ironic laugh as he threw his hands up shaking his head at his sheer ignorance. He looked at the prayer candle which Gwen had shoved into his chest a few minutes ago, setting it down on his desk, as he turned to Gwen with his hands on his hips, awaiting some sort of response.

"There's nothing to understand, here," Gwen whispered.

"Yeah there is; it's simple. You're colored, he's colored—Lorenzo's your stable option, you're just keeping him around for safe keeping for when you're through with me! " Arthur opened his mouth to speak again, before he shut it quickly, as his mind did an instant replay of his last words. He took a step backward from Guinevere, closing his eyes as he ran a hand over them. "God, that—"

"Is that what you think Arthur? That I'm keeping Lorenzo around for safe keeping!"

Arthur stood rooted in his place, already feeling ashamed for his callous words. His temper had gotten the best of him, yet again. He let his hand cover his eyes, before dropping them to his side abruptly. "I didn't mean—"

"Have you ever taken a moment to sit down and think Arthur, just_ think _about what I'm giving up for you? Do you even care?" Gwen watched Arthur cut his eyes momentarily, before looking back up at her, biting his lower lip down, as Gwen pointed to her chest with force. "I should be married by now, starting my own family with my_ colored_ husband. But then you come along, and all of my plans go up in smoke. But I haven't regretted a single moment of it Arthur, not a _single_ moment! But I guess God is upstairs laughing at how dumb I was!" Gwen's shoulders heaved forward as the dam on her emotions finally broke, and the tears gushed uncontrollably, blurring her vision. "And you t-t-think that I'm keeping Lorenzo 'around for safe keeping'!" Gwen took a step away from Arthur as she felt a hard lump form in her throat. "After all this time, you think that I would betray you by keeping someone around for safe keeping? Maybe I should ask you if you're keeping Vivian around for _safe keeping_?" Gwen uttered the last two words as if they were curses.

"Vivian has absolutely nothing do with this, Guinevere. And the whole thing about you and Lorenzo was a slip of the tongue, and you know it."

"Was _that_ supposed to be an apology?" Gwen asked, her pitch rising slightly.

"You still haven't really answered the question though," Arthur stated bluntly.

"Oh my Lord: Arthur, you really do only care about your own feelings don't you? And God forbid anyone says anything that rubs you the wrong way; 'cause you'll stomp 'round the house like a child for a week!" Gwen turned away from Arthur, as she tried to stifle her sniffles.

"Guinevere, don't pretend like you're the only one in this relationship whose had to sacrifice anything." Arthur watched Gwen's back, before gripping her arm, spinning her around.

"Get off of me, Arthur!" Gwen pushed Arthur's large hand off of her bicep, as he quickly complied.

"You don't get to get off so easily, Gwen. Don't you forget that I'm _Arthur Pendragon_!"

"Oh, like I could forget."

"And if I didn't care about you or your 'feelings', then I wouldn't have bothered with you in the first place?"

"Bothered with me?"

"Guinevere, stop trying to spin my own words on me!" Arthur exclaimed in frustration. He was angry and hurt, so everything he wanted to say managed to come out in the total opposite. "You're not the only one whose plans were tampered with, 'cause I think God's chuckling at me too." Arthur ran a hand over his mouth, as he lost himself for a moment in thought. When he finally spoke again, there was a certain airy quality to his voice, all the anger and bitterness gone. "One day… I'll be first in command of a Fortune 500 company," Arthur held up his open palms, looking down at them with a sad smile. "I can't change who I am, anymore then you can, and the fact is that I'm destined— to be my father. So you're not the only one here struggling with an identity crisis."

Gwen listened to Arthur, slowly folding her arms over her chest. "You know; you're right Arthur. So I guess you have a choice to make; it's me or the company, and everything that goes with it…and you obviously can't have both."

Arthur blinked rapidly, looking Gwen directly in her tear-glistened eyes, her words falling on him like a weight. He knew it was true, he'd grappled with the question since the beginning, but he had always been confident that he'd relinquish 'Dragon Real Estate' a thousand times over before he gave up Gwen, and he still felt the same way. But the way she had said the line was as if she was completely void of any hope, knowing in her heart that she wouldn't like his final decision. "I shouldn't have to make that decision," was the only thing Arthur knew to say.

Gwen took a deep breath, shaking her head as she looked at Arthur. "But you do. We both do. We fell in love at the wrong time, and definitely the wrong place."

Arthur's eyebrows shot up, before lowering and coming together. "Is that how you see it, our time together? As some sort of accident, or…tragedy?"

"No. It's just—you can't always have what you want. I know that very well."

"But is what I want really that insane, Guinevere?"

Gwen bit down on her lower lip, as she looked up at the ceiling. "Yes Arthur, it is. From anyone else's perspective, except from yours and mine; it's completely insane." Nervously, Gwen reached up to her neck, toying with her sapphire pendant, smiling at the memory which she felt was slowly but surely slipping through her fingertips like sand. "Arthur…maybe, we've been kidding ourselves?"

"Stop it." Arthur said sternly, looking Gwen directly in the eye. "No one's kidding themselves here."

"I'm not ready to let you give up your dreams, your family, your _everything_ for something that you can't keep—for me." Gwen had been staring at her necklace the entire time, and she looked up at Arthur once she had delivered her last lines, giving him a weak and unconvincing smile.

Arthur's breath audibly hitched in his throat, as he felt his jaw clench, and his head tilt to the side. "Stop and actually_ listen_ to what you're saying, Gwen!"

Gwen felt a hot tear run down her cheek, but she didn't bother to wipe it. "I love you Arthur, you know I do."

Arthur held his hands out, waving them frantically. He knew the next words out of her mouth would be the ones he had been dreading, and ones that could never be taken back. "Guinevere, don't do this."

"Arthur, you know I don't want to!" Gwen wiped her cheek. "But we both know it's the right thing to do. We can't carry on like this"

Arthur took a step backward, his eyes wide and hurt. "Right for you or for me?"

"It's right for both of us."

"No it's not. Being miserable is not 'right' for me."

Gwen shook her head, unable to look at Arthur for a moment longer. Didn't he realize that she was trying to be strong? "I don't want you looking back on your life one day, and thinking that you'd thrown it all away for me."

"I care about you more than the company, than the money—than everything! You don't have to do this. We can be happy_ together_, Guinevere! There's no competition between some stupid company, and you!"

Gwen's hands covered her eyes, in shame, as she felt Arthur's arms wrap around her back, pressing her cheek against his chest and his thumping heart.

"I've never loved any one the way I do you. And if you think that leaving me now will save me heart ache later—then you're wrong. You're colored, I'm white that's not exactly breaking news; and even if it was, that doesn't matter to me, not any more. But are you willing to just throw everything away, everything we had because…it won't be easy?" Arthur hardly whispered, his lips crushed against her neck. "I love you. I wouldn't care if you were black, yellow, or green; I love you, Guinevere Gibson."

Gwen shut her eyes so tight that they hurt, as she put her palms flush with Arthur's chest, pushing against his breast, yet he maintained his grip. "Arthur, please let go."

Arthur refused to loosen his grip, afraid that if he let go, he'd never hold her again. She was turning her back on him, and there was nothing he could do. "Guinevere, don't make me beg."

"Arthur," Gwen whimpered weakly. "I don't want to make this hard for you. Please, just let me go!" She demanded this time, with a forceful push, which made Arthur's arms go limp. She untangled herself from his grasp, her fingers running along his arms as she moved away. "Arthur, I don't want us to end up like the Neelys and Tates. I can't ignore their story any longer. It's so much like our own."

"It's I who should be worried for you, Gwen. It's my job to protect you."

"No it's not. Not anymore," Gwen said with a sniffle, lifting her arms to reach behind her neck. Moments later, she had unclasped her necklace, the cold pendant resting in her hand, as she held it out towards Arthur, who looked down at her hand as if she had seven fingers.

"If you want to leave, okay; but don't insult me." Arthur pointed towards Gwen's hand, and at the necklace. "I had that made for you; with your smile in mind the entire time. If you're not gonna keep me, at least keep the necklace so you can remember me by it."

"It's not right for me to have it Arthur," Gwen whispered, staring down at the brilliant blue gem. "It'd be too much of a reminder." Gwen thrust her arm out further in Arthur's direction. "You've been so good to me Arthur, please know that it's—it's not anything that _you_ did. It's just the way things are."

"And who _I am_, right?" Arthur asked bitterly.

"…Right," Gwen whispered.

Arthur couldn't bear to look Gwen in the eye any longer; he had already emasculated himself enough by voicing the utter hopelessness he felt, and the last thing he wanted to do was become teary eyed. No. Not now, and not in front of her. If this was how things had to end, then Arthur preferred that Gwen's last memory of him not be how he fell to his knees in a dejected heap, grabbing the hem of her dress, begging her to stay. It would only be a matter of time, and then all of his self-respect would be absolutely demolished. At least she could leave him his dignity.

So he took the necklace from her hand slowly, as if in a trance, while all the memories he and Gwen had shared with one another played vividly in his mind like a reel.

The first time he ever laid eyes upon her; in that Godforsaken diner on a hot summer night, totally frustrated and overworked, and how much he had despised her after her clumsiness landed a cold drink in his lap. The first time he ever felt her touch and the way it sent shock waves up his spine, but it paled in comparison to the first time he kissed her underneath a canopy of stars. The fire in her neighborhood, and the anxiety he felt when he thought that he had lost Gwen in the most gruesome way, only mere days after he told her just how much he cared for her. Their numerous secret excursions; days where they could disappear together, forgetting about their crazy and messy lives as the just spent time with one another, sharing secrets and dreams, wishing that days like those would never end. He thought of all of the plans they had made during their many cuddles, and the future he envisioned together in glee. But the memory which was the most profound, yet the most painful was when Arthur had told Gwen that he loved her for the first time in his cabin at Redmond Grove, and the look of joy and surprise in her soft brown eyes. Now there was only sadness in them.

But despite all of the fond memories, it didn't change the fact that he was here now, holding the replica of his mother's necklace, his gift to Guinevere on her twentieth birthday. His trip down the long and windy 'memory lane' was cut short as he wondered where exactly all that time went, and why it was being cut so short. He felt cheated, and he wasn't sure who to be angry at for his sudden twist of fate. Should he yell and shake his fist heavenward toward God, asking Him why he was given such a radical love, and then snatched it away? What about Guinevere for wanting to give up so easily…or was she just finally seeing reason? Or should he be angry at himself for ever letting Gwen get so close. He had learned the hard way to never allow people to become _too _intimate, because they always disappointed you in the end…or worse; left.

Arthur's fingers closed over the pendant, as he slowly raised his gaze to look at Guinevere's tear streaked face. There was only one thing left he wanted—could say. "This isn't fair, Guinevere."

"I know Arthur," Gwen whispered. "I don't want things to be this way, but better now than later…please don't hate me; I just want the best for you."

Arthur's thumb traced the cold heart-shaped sapphire, shaking his head as he looked at his reflection through the gem. "I could never hate you."

Gwen sniffled, nodding her head. "I guess…"

"…This is goodbye?"

Gwen turned around, stopping at Arthur's door, where she rested a hand, turning to look at Arthur, who stood holding her necklace, the chain dangling from his hand. Gwen fled the scene in the next moment, as the room became a thousand degrees, and a rare case of claustrophobia overcame her. She wanted to tell Arthur sorry, that she never meant to hurt him like she knew she had, but it would only make things worse. She knew that he was containing his emotions as it was, and it would just be better for everyone if she left right away.

* * *

><p>Merlin did his best not to cringe as he felt Morgana's hot breath against his neck, as he jumped backward when he heard the door Arthur's bedroom shut quietly, and Gwen's quiet whimpers gently echo throughout the desolate the hall. She moved further down the hall way in the opposite direction, but no footsteps could be heard against the steps, so it was safe to say that she was still on the second floor somewhere, most likely composing herself.<p>

Morgana took a step backward, her wide eyes looking into Merlin's own. "Oh my Lord…did—what just happened?" Morgana whispered hoarsely, her eyes focused on nothing in particular.

Though she and Merlin could only pick up on tiny bits of the conversation, they had heard enough to catch the unpleasant gist, causing Morgana to be at a loss for words. She should have been clapping for joy, offering three cheers for her "victory", but for the time being, she was frozen in complete shock.

"Don't you mean 'mission accomplished!'?" Merlin scoffed, pushing himself off of the wall.

Morgana's eyes narrowed automatically at Merlin. "I'm not an evil witch, you know."

"No, just a manipulative one. I know that you're beside yourself with joy right now, so there's no need to hide it."

Morgana rolled her eyes; it seemed that Merlin's flow of naiveté never ceased. "Gwen's right; it's time to face the music, Merlin. It was only a matter of time before the two lovebirds split, and honestly, I'm surprised that this charade has gone on for more than half a year as it is." Morgana held out her two hands, lifting up her right one first. "Think of Gwen as 'beer and pretzels'," she lifted her left with a slight smirk, "and my cousin, a _Pendragon_, as champagne and the finest caviar. Now do you ever see beer, pretzels, champagne, and caviar served at the same party? I think not, and I reckon it's 'cause one's common, and the other sophisticated. I know you have this whole 'color blind' approach to lookin' at life, but it just doesn't apply. Arthur and Gwen are cut from separate cloths."

Merlin raised an eyebrow, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Your cousin has had his heart trampled over by a cleat, and Gwen feels terrible…and you're coming up with beer and pretzel analogies!" Merlin nearly croaked, yet doing his best to maintain a whisper.

"If the shoe fits, wear it," Morgana said with a nonchalant shrug.

Merlin could only look at Morgana, enraptured by her ignorance and indifference. Merlin knew that if it hadn't been for his presence, Morgana would be skipping down the hallway in exuberant song, jumping up to click her heels together in mid air. Her lipstick red smirk gave it all away. She needed some serious psychiatric help. "Well, you and Vivian can rest easy now," Merlin said in a mocking tone. "The maid—oh excuse me: 'nigger whore', is out of the picture, and you're family's good name is still as white as snow. And now Vivian can dig her fangs into Arthur, because I'm sure she's learnt a few trick from you. Good gracious," Merlin said in contempt, "I hope you're mighty proud of yourself, it was a job well done, hard work and persistence paid off, I guess." Arthur said patting Morgana on the back, causing her to flinch as she shrugged him off violently.

Morgana rolled her eyes again, as she brushed past Merlin with a scoff. "I don't have time for your nonsense."

Merlin tapped his head, as if he forgot something. "Oh, that's right. You have some grand news to deliver to your blonde little minion, don't you?"

"Merlin, there's no need to—" Morgana's harsh command was cut short as she ran directly into Arthur's chest the moment she stepped out into the main hallway, a loud "hmmph" sound escaping her lips, as she gasped in surprise. She stepped backward just in time to see Merlin appear from behind the corner they had been hiding, looking shell shocked himself. "Arthur! Golly, I didn't see you there!" Morgana exclaimed with a bright smile, before frowning. "What's wrong? Are you alright?" Morgana asked with concern.

Arthur twirled a cigarette cartoon in his hands, as he quickly looked to Merlin. His eyes were red, and his usually neat blonde hair disheveled, and his strong hands still a little shaky. "I'm goin' out for a smoke—or two, or three." Arthur said simply.

Morgana pointed toward the red and white box. "I thought you quit?"

"Yeah, well people change their minds 'bout things." Arthur looked to Merlin, who almost looked as sad as he was. But he had no clue; he never could. Arthur turned away solemnly, jogging down the steps, as Merlin listened to his friend's feet hit the glass tile in the foyer moments later. Merlin couldn't help but replay Arthur's last words: _"Yeah, well people change their minds 'bout things."_ He was pretty sure it held a meaning which far surpassed a few cigarettes.

* * *

><p>Gwen sighed as she stood at her doorstep, looking at the light gleam from her living room window. On the twenty minute car ride of awkward and dense silence with Alice, Gwen had prayed the entire time that her home would be vacant, and she wouldn't have to face her father and brother. Not yet, at least. Biting the bullet, she quickly but quietly opened the wooden front door, turning around to close it silently.<p>

"What, are you sneakin' in, or somethin'?" Elliot asked from behind, causing Gwen to jump.

Gwen spun quickly on her heels to look at her brother, gasping quickly, before realizing who it was, then frowning in the next moment. "Hi Elliot," she muttered at her brother who was munching away on an uncharacteristically loud and crunchy apple. "Is Daddy home?"

Elliot looked up at his sister narrow and analytical eyes. She looked and sounded bad; even her voice had an unusual raspy quality to it. She definitely wasn't the sweet 'frolicking-in-the-field-picking-daises Gwen' who usually graced his presence; she was disgruntled at best. "Uhhm…Pop and I went to Clarence's house for supper earlier on. But Pop decided to stay a little longer to chat with Clarence and the misses."

"Good," Gwen muttered, turning away from her brother, he cleared his throat dramatically, causing her to turn around.

"Did you just say 'good'?" Elliot asked, unable to believe his two good ears.

Gwen rested a hand on her forehead making a visor, as she looked at Elliot through tired and sad eyes. "Elliot, I'm not in the right mood for dealin' with people right now, especially you. So if you could just leave me be, and—"

"Is this 'bout Lorenzo? 'Cause you've been in a funk these past few days, ever since Lorenzo came over for dinner."

"No, it's not about Lorenzo. I know it's hard to believe, but my world doesn't revolve around him. And how many times do I have to tell you that he's none of your business anyhow?"

Elliot scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning against a kitchen counter, evaluating his piping hot sister with an onceover. "Nah, nah, nah—I really know what all this huffin' and puffin' is 'bout; you're a _terrible_ liar! It's 'cause you still think that I was mighty disrespectful at dinner, all because I don't like your little white boy—"

Gwen finally lost it. For the few hours she had remained at work, she had been trying to maintain her composure, mainly through silence, and avoiding all human contact possible. But Elliot just wanted to push her, and then he had to go and bring up Arthur? The last thing she wanted to hear was another one of Elliot's rants about how Arthur was a "good for nothin' skirt chasin' white boy" and how "Pop needed to know about her little rendezvous with a cracker man, before he finds out from the town".

"I'm gonna say this one last time Elliot, and maybe it'll get into that thick ol' skull of yours! This 'white boy' has a name, and it's Arthur!" Gwen could feel her voice begin to leave her as she yelled her two sentences with all her might, her chest moving rapidly after she had delivered them.

Elliot quickly sprung up as he heard his sister's sudden ferocity, taking a step away from her with grave caution. "What the—"

"And you'd be happy to know that you won't have to worry about Arthur anymore because we broke up! And I'm sure you'll start singin' the 'hallelujah chorus' when you hear that I'm the one who did it! Are you finally content that your whoring sister finally stopped being some white man's toy, and started being a respectable colored woman!"

Elliot opened his mouth, before closing it quickly, as he saw his sister start crying.

Gwen took a few steps away from Elliot, before turning back around, to give him her parting words. "So you and Daddy can go call up Lorenzo, and y'all can set up the wedding dates, if you haven't already!"

"Gwen, I—"

Gwen wasn't about to let Elliot finish his thought. She was too angry. "I finally find someone who cares me for me Elliot; someone who I can laugh with, confide in—but people like _you_ make it impossible for us to be together in peace! All 'cause someone sat down one day and decided that my kind and his kind can't have any type of respectable union! So go throw yourself one hell of a party! You finally got rid of your rich white boy, and you don't have to worry 'bout your sister disgracin' you anymore!"

Elliot's eyes were the size and shape of saucers, and his mouth was wide open as he listened to his sister vent her anger. Never in his life had he seen her so upset and infuriated…and it scared him, even made him a little sad that his only sister held such contempt for him. He was only trying to look out for her.

Gwen waved her hand dismissively at Elliot, before disappearing in the home's small hallway, slamming her bedroom door shut so hard, that he was sure she may have splintered some of the wood.

Elliot Gibson fumbled to pull out one of the chairs which sat at the small dining room table, sitting down slowly. He replayed his sister's words in his head, feeling the sting of each one a hundred times over. Within the hour, Tom had arrived home, and Elliot had remained glued in his wooden chair, and Gwen frozen in her bed with the door shut, not to come out once until the next morning.

* * *

><p>"<em>Vivian, dear, your cooks rival my own back at the Estate! Hmmm, could you pass the dressing?" Uther asked, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin.<em>

"_Of course, Dad," Vivian smiled happily, passing Uther the glass container of balsamic vinegar. She stood from her place, walking to the head of the table where her husband sat. "Arthur, honey," Vivian began reaching her arms out in her husband's direction, "lemme take Junior up to bed now, he'll be gettin' cranky soon."_

_Morgana set down her fork quickly, covering her mouth as not to expose the chewing of her food. "No, no!"She interjected. "Let him stay for just five minutes longer, please? It's not every day that a very proud aunty gets to see her favorite nephew," Morgana gushed, looking upon her perfect nephew. Well, Arthur's child technically wouldn't be her nephew, but it just sounded better, and Arthur was like a brother after all._

_Vivian looked at her 8 month old son, then to his father, waiting for confirmation._

_Arthur nodded. "Five minutes Morgana, then I've gotta put this little guy to bed." Little Arthur's back rested against his father's middle, facing his mother, aunt, and grandfather, shaking his blue rattle from time to time, or throwing it to the ground, making one of the maids pick it up._

"_Fine, fine," Morgana agreed at Arthur's caveat, as Vivian sat once again at her empty plate._

_Uther turned away from his food, looking to his left at his radiant blonde-haired blue-eyed grandson. Arthur II, or 'Junior' was a plump child, much like how his father had been until his teenage year. He had a considerable amount of straight blonde hair atop his head, and his eyes were large and crystal blue. He was indeed a handsome baby, quiet too._

_Morgana cleared her throat, before taking a sip of wine. "Congratulations y'all on the house, it's coming along real nicely." Morgana looked around the large house which Arthur had inherited from his mother once he had come of age. _

"_Why thank you, Morgana. Yes, I did have to jazz this place up a bit, but I think things are really comin' along. I hired some painters, and designers to decorate the room." Vivian held up her hand to her mouth, as she became excited, before dropping it quickly. "My oh my, Morgana, you have to see Junior's room! I was able to get Arthur over here to help me paint it before Junior came along, and I'd say we did a mighty fine job. Right honey?" Vivian turned slightly to look at her husband, who took a large swig of his wine, nodding slightly._

"_Yes. I think we did a good enough job."_

_Morgana stood, walking to Arthur, picking up her thick nephew, hugging him tightly, giving him innumerable kisses on his plump rosy cheeks. "I just love you so much, Junior!" She said in the slightly altered voice all adults use to talk to babies. "Arthur; I'm through eating. Vivian and I will go put Junior down to bed now, and she can show off his room to me." _

"_A fine idea," Uther agreed, setting his napkin on the table. _

_Vivian walked over to her father-in-law, placing her cheek next to his, as she gave him a light hug. "Make it home safely, in case you leave before Junior's asleep."_

"_Of course dear, thank you for having me over."_

_Vivian waved her hand dismissively. "Don't be a stranger Uther. Junior needs to get familiar with his grandpa!"_

_Uther just smiled as he watched Vivian walk up the large staircase with Morgana, who bounced a gurgling Junior all the way, playing 'peek-a-boo' as she moved._

_Arthur silently pivoted in his seat, motioning to the colored maid who stood behind him to refill his wine glass. She did so obediently, before standing back to the side._

_Uther cleared his throat, catching the girl's attention. "Leave us."_

"_Yes sir," the girl agreed, walking into the kitchen where other servants were washing dishes from the dinner._

_Uther laid back in his chair, content. "Your home reminds me of what it was like when you and Morgana still lived in the Estate."_

_Arthur leaned his head back until it reach the back of his chair, gulping down more red wine as he did so. He set down the empty glass, reaching for the bottle, seemingly ignoring his father's observation._

_Uther watched with concern as Arthur filled yet another glass, but he only made it mid way until Uther snatched the large vintage wine bottle away. "You may wanna ease up on the alcohol there, son," he suggested, resting the almost empty bottle on his side, away from Arthur's eager reach._

_Arthur lifted up his glass in a mock toast. "Good thing it's my house then, aint it?" Arthur promptly knocked back the half filled glass, setting it down with a content sigh. _

"_Arthur," Uther began in a hoarse whisper, leaning in close to his son. "What's come over you? You're drinking like a fish! Are you trying to get…drunk?"_

"_What if I am?" Arthur asked, looking his father directly in the eye, as the old man winced in response._

"_What's come over you? Why are you acting so? You'll scare Vivian," Uther hissed._

"_Ah yes, Vivian, my perfect perfect perfect wife!" Arthur exclaimed a little too loudly, throwing his arms up._

"_Exactly. Need I remind you that you have a beautiful home, a caring and doting wife, a healthy bouncy baby boy, a good marriage—"_

"_Let me stop you right there," Arthur said with an ironic laugh as he held his hand up. "I didn't really have an option to enter into this 'good marriage'. Don't forget that Vivian was 'Plan B', my heart rests nowhere near her. The only good thing she's brought me is my son."_

_Uther gasped. "You hush this instant before Vivian hears you! Now you remember that no one was up there at that altar in the cathedral, forcing you to say 'I do'. No sir, you did that yourself"_

"_Yup. I sure did. And I've regretted it every day since for the past three years," Arthur said looking into his empty glass. "My life wasn't supposed to end up like this, Dad. I'm not supposed to be miserable," Arthur said sadly._

"_It's just that—you've been a bachelor for so long! It's taking you a spell or two to get acclimated to marriage. It's normal," Uther assured with an uneasy laugh._

_Arthur frowned. "I think three years is a long trial period. No matter how many years pass by, it'll never be Vivian who's the apple of my eye. Maybe I'll learn to tolerate her better, but that's it."_

_Uther's eyes narrowed, as he came to a stark realization. "This little 'sulk session'…you're thinking 'bout that maid, aren't you?" Uther watched Arthur stare into his glass, his eyes glossing over. "Oh Christ, you're pathetic Arthur! What kind of man have I raised you up to be? One who cries over colored maids? That_ girl_ was ages ago, start bein' a man and move on."_

"_It was only six years ago, and you don't just 'move on' from things like that. And I'm thinkin' 'bout this now 'cause…I saw her the other day."_

_Uther gasped. "After all this time! You saw her! Where?"_

"_In the grocery store, with her three kids; she has a set of twins," Arthur said with a sad smile. "She was with her husband…Lorenzo. She looked happy, but she didn't see me. I'm glad."_

_Uther smacked his forehead, shaking his head._

"_Dad, I don't wanna be like this—_live_ like this anymore. I wanna go—"_

"_Morgana?" Arthur asked startled as his cousin came into view._

"_Morgana!" Uther exclaimed, finding his niece making her way from the door way._

"_We forgot Junior's bottle." Morgana quickly looked to her cousin, resting a hand on her hip. "So...you saw Gwen?"_

"_What's it to you?" Arthur growled._

"_She ruined our lives Arthur. You have a son now; you can't drag him into your past—"_

Morgana's eyes slowly opened, to find her shoulder being shaken as gently as possible in order to wake her up. Her blurry gaze slowly focused onto Gwen who blocked the sunshine which was pouring through Morgana's window.

"Morgana, are you alright? You were tossin' and turnin' like you had a bad dream," Gwen asked, genuinely concerned.

Morgana rubbed her eyes, looking away from Gwen. "I'm fine, thanks," she rolled onto her side, looking at her clock. "Good gracious," Morgana moaned groggily. "Why are you wakin' me up so early?"

"Mister Arthur and Mister Uther are leaving for Charleston for their conference in less than thirty minutes. I was told to wake you."

Morgana's back was facing Gwen, so the maid didn't see her roll her eyes. Ever since her and Arthur's falling out three days ago, Gwen had regressed into calling Arthur 'sir' or 'mister', and it irritated Morgana to no end; they were way past that, and the pretense annoyed her. Now she had to get up to say good bye to her cousin and uncle, when the only thing she wanted was to finish her dream, but then again, maybe she'd rather it end there. It seemed that even her dream world revolved around Gwen and Arthur.

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired by: "It's Just Better for Everyone" by Rosaline (one of my favorite songs ever!; perfect for this chapter!)<em>


	25. Chapter 25

**Plagiarizers! Ye be warned! I check weekly to make sure that this story (which I have worked very hard on) has not been stolen, and put off as some one elses. I thought someone had plagiarized me, but it was a false alarm. But what I did find was some loyal readers promoting "MLMS" on other sites! Thank you so much! I appreciate all of my readers! (And please let me know ASAP if you see this anywhere besides FanFiction, or under a different username).**

_Okay, this chapter is more like a bridge to next week's chapter which I'm __**very**__ excited for! Yet, for all of you out there who are frustrated with Merlin (I know you exist), maybe you'll give him a bit of break after this chapter…and maybe you'll be more frustrated with Gwen...tell me what you think. Actually, this chapter is more than a bridge, because some exciting stuff happens, so…it's a pretty cobblestone bridge over clear running water, how about that?_

_Alright people, if for some strange reason you're at **CHAPTER 25** and I'm still not on your story alert/favorites stories…then there's something wrong. So go fix that, if it applies to you! Happy reading, let me know what you think in a comment if you're so moved._

_**P.S.:**__ The reason that this chapter is coming out so fast is because: 1.) I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it 2.) It didn't take long to write 3.) I'm going to need extra time with 26, I can just see it now, so it buys me a couple of days, so I stay in line with my "post on Saturday" schedule for the week after._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 25: Stop Right There<strong>

"Gwen, would you do me a blessin', and pass me my hair brush? It's in front of the mirror!" Morgana chirped from her bathroom, turning on the tap to the sink to wash down the tooth paste she had just spat out. Gwen appeared with Morgana's favorite brush in hand just as Morgana was drying her hands, then her face. Hanging her towel back up when finished, Morgana looked over her shoulder to her forlorn maid. It had been like this for the past three day, and Arthur was no better of course. The two were so transparent, it was dreadful, and Morgana had to resist giving the two pointers each time she came into contact with them. At least they could _try _and look happy! "Did someone kill your puppy, or somethin' Gwen?" Morgana asked letting out a sigh, and picking up her brush.

The maid laughed uneasily, pushing some hair behind her ear. "No, no, I'm just tired."

Morgana resisted rolling her eyes; Gwen had to be the worst liar on the face of the earth. After all this time, Morgana had realized that whenever the maid was fibbing (always about Arthur), that she would laugh nervously, or push hair behind her ears. She was now doing both. "You've been tired for the last three days?" Morgana pressed.

Gwen looked down at her feet, clearing her throat. "Sorry if I've been a 'Debbie Downer' lately. I know I haven't been in the best of moods."

Morgana reached for her purple headband, putting it in her hair to push her dark locks back. "It's alright, we all go through rough patches. But just remember, if there's anything I can do to help then just let me know." Morgana watched Gwen's first genuine smile for three days as she invited the girl back to her room.

"You've got twenty more minutes until Mr. Uther leaves."

"I'll be through in a jiffy, I promise." Morgana assured Gwen as she walked to her wardrobe, taking out a crème blouse, turning to Gwen with a smile. "So…I bought a little goin' away present for Arthur. Do you wanna see it?"

Gwen cleared her throat delicately. "Of course."

"Okay: it's in the very bottom drawer of that tall dresser," Morgana said pointing behind her. "It should be under some papers, you'll see it."

Gwen merely nodded, walking past Morgana, and bending down to open the drawer. Her hands hadn't even touched the drawer before Morgana nearly screeched, startling Gwen.

"Wait!" Morgana threw her blouse on the bed, moving next to Gwen who shot up quickly in alarm.

"What is it?" Gwen asked, looking around the room.

Morgana took a deep breath, trying to appear normal as she tapped her forehead in feigned forgetfulness, releasing an uneasy laugh. "Silly me, I forgot that I moved it yesterday. It's in… the drawer to my desk."

"Okay…" Gwen drew out, giving Morgana a lingering stare before walking to the other side of the large room where Morgana's desk was.

As soon as the maid turned around, Morgana let out a quiet sigh of relief, squatting to the height of the open drawer, looking over her back, to make sure Gwen wasn't watching her; she was too busy rummaging through a drawer that was just filled with old papers.

"I don't see it," the Gwen said, obviously perplexed.

"Uhh, just keep lookin'!" Morgana said impatiently, picking up the beige paper at the top of the drawer which she which she immediately recognized. It was the letter from the Adamson School, which had informed Morgana that they would consider enrolling Gwen into their nursing program. Swiftly, Morgana moved the paper to the bottom of the drawer, uncovering the small velvet jewelry box which she knew was there all along. "Ah, sorry Gwen, I found it!" Morgana said turning around with a smile, closing the drawer with her foot with ease.

Gwen straightened, putting a hand on her hip, tilting her head. "What is it?"

Morgana walked towards Gwen, snapping the black box open, holding it out so Gwen could look. "Do you like them?"

"…Cuff links? Doesn't he have a lot of those already? I mean, they're lovely, don't get me wrong!" Gwen added quickly.

Morgana laughed at the maid's response, her finger grazing one of the silver cuff links which had Arthur's initials: ALP. "He does, but these have his initials engraved in them, see?" Morgana tilted the box slightly for better viewing, as Gwen craned her neck to do so. It was in the close proximity where Morgana noticed that Gwen's necklace was gone.

"They're quite pretty."

"Thanks. I know he's really nervous about the business trip, so I figured I'd buy him something nice to…boost his confidence some, help him blend in if he doesn't already." Morgana explained, setting the box on her dresser.

Gwen smiled broadly at Morgana's gesture. "That was a nice thing to do. I'm sure he'll love 'em."

Morgana looked at Gwen, nodding. "Well…thanks for waking me up. But I think I can do the rest on my own. I'll be down soon."

"Alright. I'll see you downstairs." Gwen turned, leaving Morgana's room, and walking into the empty hall way. Across the way, Arthur's door was closed, and he was probably on the other side doing some last minute packing—or worrying. She knew that ever since Arthur had learned of his privilege, he had been anxious about the trip. He wanted to gain the respect of his father's business partners, and he hoped to learn from the experience as well. He just didn't want to disappoint his father yet again, so Gwen was sure that at that very moment, Arthur was pacing his room, running his hands through his hair, grumbling to himself like he always did when he was nervous. She couldn't resist a small smile, as the image became animated into her mind. She always found him so to be extremely endearing when his nerves were frazzled.

Gwen was so lost in her thoughts, that she almost skipped the first step on the stairwell, nearly tumbling down the stair case. She regained her balance though, and took a deep breath meant for composure before walking down the remainder of the steps slowly. As soon as she entered the foyer, Clarence too walked in, tipping his hat to her, closing the front door.

"Good mornin' Gwen."

"Hi Clarence," Gwen said quietly, hoping she sounded at least a little happy to see him. But she knew her tone wasn't the least bit convincing when Clarence frowned, resting his hat under his arm.

"Is somethin' troubling you? You seem a lil' down."

She was tired of everyone saying/asking that. If they obviously knew the answer already, what was the point in asking? "Ah no, I'm just dandy. Just a little—"

"Clarence!" Came the boom voice of Arthur as he rushed down the steps, with a large duffle bag in each hand. "You're not gettin' paid to stand 'round and yap all day!" Arthur growled, reaching the ground level, and tossing the bags at Clarence's feet. Arthur began to count on his fingers, giving Clarence a good piece of his mind. "My bags aren't in the car, you still have to get my suits from upstairs, the limo isn't…" Arthur's voice slowly drifted off as he realized that he was standing next to Gwen, who was watching him with a look of trepidation.

Clarence fumbled putting his black cap back on, scrambling to pick up Arthur's two bags. "I'm mighty sorry sir, I shouldn't be idling. I'll go upstairs and get your suits right away sir."

Arthur had been looking at Gwen the entire time, and he continued to peer at her as he answered Clarence. "Go and shake a leg on it; we're leavin' in about fifteen minutes."

"Yes sir, sorry sir," Clarence apologized for the second time, quickly nodding in Gwen's direction, scurrying away in the next moment.

Arthur never looked away from Gwen, making her uneasy. He saw her right foot lift up slightly to walk away from Arthur and a potential argument, but he spoke quickly to dissuade her. "You've been avoiding me, and you've been doing a good job at it, too." Arthur stated matter-of-factly, his lack of emotion stark; as if he was reporting the weather, or talking about a run to the grocery store.

Gwen looked around uneasily, taking a step away from Arthur once she noted his nearness; she didn't want him to get any ideas. "I think it's best if I try to see as little of you as possible," Gwen whispered. "You're my boss now sir; you always were."

Arthur looked around the empty foyer, before taking Gwen by the arm, taking her aside, where they were out of ear shot.

"Stop calling me sir! Is that all I am to you, just your boss? Someone who means nothing?" Arthur hissed. There was an awkward silence for a while before Arthur regained eye contact with Gwen. "We were happy."

Gwen bit her bottom lip, resisting the urge to tap her foot. "Sometimes being happy just isn't enough. So just do us both a favor, and look at me the way you'd look at any other maid."

"You'll never be just another maid to me, Guinevere. Look, I've been doin' some serious thinking, 'bout everything you said—"

Gwen held up her hand, stopping Arthur in his tracks, slouching her shoulders in exasperation. "Arthur, there's nothing left to talk about. As much as it hurts, you and I can't be together, not now at least." Gwen paused, noting the sudden look of hope and joy on Arthur's face, erasing it quickly as she corrected herself. "And probably not ever."

Arthur's eyebrows came together. "I can't believe how easy this is for you! It's like you don't care at all!" Arthur exclaimed, becoming angrier at Gwen's relative calmness in the entire situation. Here he was, pouring his heart out to her for the second time, and she was so…cold. "But I still miss you Gwen, even if you don't care, I'll never stop thinking about you."

Gwen rubbed her cheek. "You have to. For both of us, you have to move on."

"Have you Guinevere? Have you moved on already?"

Gwen looked at Arthur sadly, feeling guilty that she was causing him so much pain. He wasn't willing to give her up so easily, and she wanted more than anything to jump into his arms and tell him just how much she did miss him, but she couldn't. Life came with necessary suffering, and being without Arthur seemed to be one of them. They were square pegs existing in a round world.

Gwen looked down at her hands, then up at Arthur's blue eyes, which watched her intently. "I should go Arthur." Gwen could only at Arthur's contorted features for another moment until she walked past him, moving as quickly as she could, for she knew she was liable to turn around and undo everything.

* * *

><p>Arthur groaned, leafing through the hefty packet his father had given him. "Do I have to know all of these people? Some of these names are in different languages—what is this, Chinese or somethin'?" Arthur exclaimed, letting the packet fall to its cover page.<p>

On the other side of the limousine, Uther looked up from a report which he was reading on his lap, to his frantic son. "Well, the most important people are at the top, and you should at least be familiar with the names, their position, and major contributions. This is the work that comes with running a large business," Uther said with a proud smile.

Arthur took several deep breaths, looking out the window at the rolling landscape of the low country, in an attempt to lower his intense anxiety. He was beginning to believe that he was grossly unprepared for the trip, and that maybe it would be best if he went with another year of experience under his belt.

Uther handed his nervous son an embroidered handkerchief from his pocket. "You're sweating like a sinner in church Arthur," Uther heartily chuckled, tossing the handkerchief to his son.

Arthur caught it, dabbing it to his forehead, glaring at his chuckling father. "This aint funny."

"Oh, but it is!" Uther watched his son continue to glare, which caused him to cease in his gleeful chuckles. "Listen," Uther leaned over to the limo's mini-bar, picking up a bottle bourbon, and two tumblers. "I was in the same position as you, many, many, _many_, years ago, and my papa gave me the talk I'm 'bout to give you. And I'm sure that one day, you'll give it to your son."

"Well get on with it then," Arthur said unimpressed; he wasn't in the mood for a bedtime story.

Uther took a bottle of young Kentucky bourbon which he kept in the car, untwisting the top as he began. "When it came time for me to meet all of the associates in Charleston, my heart was pounding like a jack hammer, all the way there. The only thing I could think of was all of the different ways I could embarrass myself or my father, and how inadequate I felt. I was sure that I was to make a grand mess of things."

Arthur looked at the glass tumbler which his father filled half way with the pungent amber liquid. "So…what happened? How'd you do."

Uther grinned widely. "I failed; utterly and completely."

Arthur frowned, throwing the handkerchief across the long car. "Well gee, thanks for that story, you really know how to give one hell of a pep talk!"

"Wait, wait, there's more, slow your roll. But first, try this, it'll calm your nerves some," Uther handed his son the glass, issuing him a warning as Arthur took it. "Go easy on it though; that's not the cheap stuff. Take it down at once, and it'll be coming right back up, and after a full glass you won't be able to make it out of the car."

Arthur nodded, taking a sip, twisting his head to the side momentarily as he took the first taste; he was more of a brandy type of man; it was sweet and did the job. Yet, after the quick burn passed, Arthur was able to appreciate why his father liked his Kentucky bourbon so much; the sweet and slightly smoky taste grew on him as he took another slightly larger sip.

"So, now it's time for the happy ending," Uther finally announced after savoring his own drink for a moment of bliss.

"I'm not sure I wanna hear it…" Arthur grumbled, taking another small sip.

Uther ignored the comment. "I was at a dinner party on the last night of the trip, everyone who was anyone was there: actors from the west, bankers from the east, big time ranchers from the Midwest, and old money folks from the good ol' South. You'd think that after a life time of attending such events, this one wouldn't be a problem, right? Wrong. I was awkward and awful, and I just couldn't keep a conversation to save my life."

"Were you worse than Merlin?"

"Oh, definitely; I was as tight as a rubber band that night, so I ventured outside for a breather. I can still remember, sitting on those cold stone steps to catch my breath when _the_ most gorgeous woman I'd ever laid my eyes upon steps out, and rests her delicate hand on my shoulder. I'll tell ya son, I had to pick my jaw off of the ground the first time I saw your mother; I thought I'd died and gone to heaven, and that's the God honest truth."

"Mom? You met mom on the trip?" Arthur asked with a small smile, realizing that his father never mentioned how they met. He only talked about Igraine on the rarest of occasions. "Then what happened?"

"Well, I guess you know the ending of the story, seen as you're here and all…but I fell in love that night, Arthur. You're mother had the heart of a saint, and she came outside, 'cause she saw me rushing out, and she thought I was fixing to get sick. We were the last ones there that night, and she went home with my heart. After that, I never thought of another woman again." Uther sighed taking a sip of his drink, Arthur staring at him with a raised brow. "What?"

"I've never heard you sound so…sappy? Nah—romantic; that's the word."

"A woman will do that to you—the right one will at least."

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, before closing it again.

"What is it?"

"I had a question…but it's awkward. Never mind …"

Uther swallowed, shaking his head at his son. "Well, now you've got me intrigued, and I want to know. Just go on, and spit it out; it's just you and me in here."

Arthur took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "I was wonderin'…what's it like to be in love. Like, when do you know it's the real deal and not somethin' like infatuation, or puppy dog love?"

Uther paused, blinking a couple of times. "What's love? Boy…you don't ask the easy questions, do you?"

Arthur took another drink, shifting in his seat to look out the window. "Just forget that I asked."

Uther downed the small amount which was left in his class, setting the empty tumbler in the bar, he too looking out the window, taking a deep breath. "If—when you're in love Arthur, there'll be no 'if, and or buts' about it. It may hit you hard and fast as a brick suddenly one day, or a slow process, where you really get to know the girl, and realize your feelings. But whichever way it happens, one thing is for sure: the girl will always be on your mind." Uther paused to gauge Arthur's reaction, only to find him peering out the window once more. "You'd be ready to do anything for this girl, if only it was to see her smile, and even that would light up your entire world. She'd be like your best friend, someone you could confide in and laugh with in the same breath. And you wouldn't want her to change a single thing, 'cause you think she's just perfect the way she is, and she'd feel all the same about you too. And…that's all I got, son."

There was a period of dense silence which stagnated in the car, signaling both men that the brief and rare heart to heart was finished.

"Dad," Arthur began suddenly, gaining Uther's attention immediately. "Have you ever loved someone, and they not love you back?"

"No son, I can't say that I have…have you?" Uther delivered his last two words with extreme caution, realizing that Arthur was opening up so much as it was.

"I'm not sure." Arthur tilted his head backward to finish his drink, placing the empty glass back in the bar, realizing a moment later that he would really welcome another one right about now, but he could already feel a buzz from just half a tumbler, and he figured that he shouldn't. Instead, his right hand drifted into his pocket, where the sapphire necklace rested at the bottom. He clutched onto it for the entire two hours until he and his father pulled up to their Charleston home.

* * *

><p>Morgana lay on her back, her head against her fluffy pillow, and her eyes closed, yet she remained fully alert. A radio news broad cast was playing in the background, but she was hardly paying attention. Her hands rested on her stomach, atop of the letter she had received from the Adamson School of Nursing almost more than a month ago. She had been awaiting a call from their admissions director, and it wasn't until last week when she began to become seriously worried. Had they forgotten about her and Gwen? No…they couldn't have! Morgana's active mind drifted to the conversation she had with Vivian two days ago, the day after Arthur and Gwen's dramatic yet welcomed split.<p>

"_Vivian! Could you focus for a single minute?" Morgana growled, as she watched the ecstatic blonde basically dance around her room in a box step, her hands clasped together, and her lips curved upward into a satisfied smile._

"_Ahh, Morgana, quit bein' such a wet blanket! You said it yourself, this is good news! The best news I've gotten in such a long time." Vivian's eyes twinkled, as she sighed softly in joy._

_Morgana threw her hair off of her shoulders, regretting her decision to inform Vivian of Arthur and Gwen's break up before they actually took care of "real business". Now the lovesick girl would be prancing around the room for the next hour, gushing about how she knew everything would work out in the end, and Morgana would have to suffer through it._

"_Tell me Morgana," Vivian began, turning to her friend, finally remaining still. "Was Arthur…troubled any?"_

_Morgana decided not to sugar coat the answer. "He was distraught. It was actually quite pitiful, the way he was nearly beggin' at some woman's feet."_

_Vivian frowned. "…What?"_

"_I mean, for a split moment, I actually felt a little guilty, maybe even sorry for him," Morgana continued truthfully. "He's just so confused, his mind and emotions have been so toyed with it's unbelievable."_

"_But it's like you've said a thousand times Morgana: Arthur and that maid are poison for each other. Nature ran its course like we knew it would, and Arthur's now a free man!" Vivian twirled around, seemingly forgetting that Morgana had just informed her that Arthur didn't want Gwen to leave him. In the end, that didn't matter to her too much; she was confident that he would forget about the maid as quickly as he had swept her up._

"_Good, you're settled, now. We should really talk about the—"_

"_Golly, Morgana!" Vivian nearly squealed, interrupting the increasingly agitated brunette as she fluttered over to her wardrobe, throwing up the two doors. "If I'm gonna get my man back on this trip, I've gotta be absolutely irresistible!"_

_Morgana watched Vivian wide eyed, as the girl started picking dresses from the wardrobe, throwing them onto her bed, and nearly hitting Morgana. Vivian held up a cream pencil dress with a few scattered sequence throughout. "With this one, the neck line isn't whorin', but it aint somethin' that screams 'virgin!' either." Vivian moved a little to the side, obtaining a better view. "And it'd mold my figure just right—"_

"_What ever happened to 'leaving something to the imagination'?"_

_Vivian looked at Morgana, before throwing the dress to the ground. "You're right, the color is too pale, and it'll make me look sickly."_

"_Uhh, that's not what I meant."_

"_Oooh!" Vivan gasped, walking to her bed where she picked up a dark blue evening gown, whose hem reached the ground. "This one says 'elegant and classy', while still being sexy!"_

"_Enough!" Morgana finally snapped, over to Vivian, snatching the dress out of her hand and throwing it to the ground with the other. "Listen; you can gloat all night for all I care, and carry on choosing the dress which you want Arthur to tear off of you later—" _

_Vivian gasped, covering her mouth at Morgana's bluntness._

"_The bragging and push up bras can wait for a minute! _I _want to talk about this damn school, you know—something which actually matters!"_

_Vivian's eyes narrowed, as she gave Morgana a brief onceover. "Sheesh, maybe you should get a man too."_

_Morgana was about to inform Vivian that she didn't have 'a man', but she had finally grasped the girl's attention, and she wasn't about to give it up now. "Our job isn't through yet."_

"_What do you mean? Arthur and the colored maid are done."_

_Morgana smacked her forehead, looking down at her feet as she shook her head. It was at moments like these where Morgana Pendragon wished that she was acting alone. She took a deep breath for patience. "One thing you oughta know 'bout Arthur by now is that he's no quitter. And if you knew Gwen any, you'd realize that she forgives people faster than a horse at the derby!"_

_Vivian frowned, well aware of where the conversation was going._

"_So excuse me if I'm not totally satisfied, because I know that they'll end up together again, and then _really_ screw things up! That's why we need to talk about this school. We gotta get Gwen outta here, away from Arthur, before she changes her mind and decided that 'she can't live without him'."_

_Vivian's upper lip curled upward at the comment. _

"_And the next thing you know, we'll be reading a note from Arthur saying that he and Gwen scooted up on North to get married or somethin'! Now is that what you want? Because right now, you're dresses and you're little games to get him back don't mean a thing!"_

_Vivian took a step away from the furious Morgana, rubbing her temples. "Okay, I'm listening." _

"_Good," Morgana said with another deep breath. She felt like she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room. "The nursing school: it's been weeks since they called. They should've been in touch by now, I feel like something's wrong, Vivian."_

"_You're a worry wart; they're probably just busy."_

"_Trust me; they'll never be too busy for me. I'm Morgana Pendragon; they should be jumping to meet my every request; my family could be potential patrons. But they're not, and it's bothering me."_

"_Maybe they changed their minds? Maybe Gwen's actually not the braniac that you thought, and she's just no up to their standards." Vivian said after a moment of thought._

Even then, Morgana knew that Vivian's thesis was faulty; Gwen was a bright student, and the transcripts she had mailed to the school showed that without a shadow of a doubt. But here she was, waiting for some kind of response from the prestigious school, but she hadn't received word at all. She had told herself that if no call had come in by noon, then she was calling herself: it was now 1:30.

Finally tired of waiting, Morgana was cradling the receiver between her ear and neck within the minute, listening to a woman with a sweet Southern twang answer and deliver the standard greeting.

"This is the Adamson School for Coloreds, this is Tammy Miller speakin'. How may I direct your call?"

"Hi Mrs. Miller. This is Morgana Pendragon calling to speak with Ruth DeAngelis, the admissions director?"

"Oh Ms. Pendragon, how are you today?"

"Fine, fine." Morgana didn't bother to offer the same question out of courtesy; she was in no mood for idle chit chat, with someone she cared nothing about.

"That's just swell. Would you mind holdin' a minute ma'am?"

_Yes, I mind very much._ "No problem." Morgana strained to pick up any background noise, but heard none, so she assumed the secretary was talking with her superior. Morgana's assumption was proven correct when Mrs. DeAngelis answered after about a two minute hold.

"Hello? This is Ruth DeAngelis, admissions director."

Morgana put on her sweetest voice, resisting the urge to lash out at the woman. "Hi Mrs. DeAngelis, this is Morgana Pendragon, we spoke briefly on the phone a couple of times, and exchanged a letter or two."

"Of course, how could I forget you Miss Pendragon?"

_I have a list, actually._ Morgana opened her mouth to speak, before hearing the director had more to say.

"I trust that you had a fine time on your trip to—where was it? England?"

"My…trip to England?"

Ruth laughed, which only irritated Morgana even further. "Yes'm. I heard it's dreadfully cold 'round this time, is that true?"

"It's a waste land." Morgana said simply. She wasn't sure what Ruth was saying, and whether or not the woman was confusing her with another, but Morgana decided to play along any way. "Who told you about my trip, anyhow?"

"Why, your secretary phoned my office on your behalf, and I talked to him myself. He was such a darling, and I understand why you couldn't personally call, I'm sure you're a very busy woman."

"I know, I apologize. What did…my secretary say to you exactly?" Morgana asked, trying to make her voice as relaxed as possible. She wasn't sure if it was working.

"Oh, well he was very brief, but he just let us know that you had to withdraw your applicants application, because an unexpected illness in her family. I'm mightily sorry to see your applicant go—what was her name? It was somethin' rather strange and exotic."

"Guinevere Gibson."

"Yes! That's right! Well your assistant, he took care of everything for you, don't you fret."

Morgana's free hand balled into a fist, as she let the drabbling woman continue. So far, Morgana was able to gather that: she was in England for some unspecified time, some unspecified man had called about Gwen, causing her application to be withdrawn? Those were Ruth's exact words.

"What a bona fide shame; I was fixin' to mail out final papers, and arrange a tour of the campus for our Ms. Gibson."

Morgana's mouth opened, as she listened to the chatty and bubbly woman continue, her speech rapid, becoming slightly garbled. "Wait, wait, wait!" Morgana said a little too quickly and testily, causing Ruth to quiet. "You were gonna take her? You were gonna take Gwen as a student?"

"Why yes ma'am! It'd be a fool thing not to. I had the hunch that she'd fit in here just right. But once I got word from your darling assistant—"

"Sorry to cut you off Mrs. DeAngelis, but I actually have two assistants. Which one spoke to you?"

"Why, he only left a last name: Ellis?"

Morgana's teeth gritted together as her jaw clenched; she had never known anyone in her life with the first or last name Ellis. But she already knew that it wasn't some 'Ellis' calling on her behalf. "Oh yes, _Ellis_."

"I'm sad to say that we had to give the spot in the nursing program to someone else. Our waiting list is quite extensive, and we can't keep a seat warm for a girl who has to tend to a sick relative for an indefinite amount of time, do you understand?"

Morgana shook her head, taking deep and shallow breaths. "Oh, I'm sure."

"So, was this call just to tie up loose ends?"

Morgana's grip on the receiver had grown so tight; that she could tell her pale hand was turning red from the tension. She had to muster all of her self control as not to hurl the device across the room. "Yes ma'am, it was."

For a split moment, Morgana thought of telling Ruth the truth: she had given up Guinevere Gibson's spot in a prestigious nursing program because of some phony 'Ellis' character. Single handedly, this fool woman had ruined everything. All because she was too lazy to call Morgana herself! But then again, why would she? As far as she was aware, Morgana was across the Atlantic, taking a tour of England.

"Well, let Ms. Gibson know that I'm sad to see her go, and that I hope her family member gets better soon. Even though she wasn't able to come here in the end, I'm sure she's mighty thankful for all you tried to do for her. It's been a while since I've come across such a gentle and generous soul. Bless your heart, Ms. Pendragon."

Morgana finally let out a scream, as she smashed the receiver onto the cradle, ending the call abruptly. But she didn't care; the silly woman was now useless to her, and there was no reason to maintain politeness with the biggest moron Morgana Pendragon had ever the displeasure of contacting.

In the next instant, Morgana shot up to standing position, placing both of her hands at her hairline, as she resisted letting out another frustrated yell.

Gwen's spot had been given away! She had one foot through the door, and it was…poof; gone. All because of 'Ellis', or more appropriately 'Merlin'. Morgana knew the moment that Ruth had said that her assistant was male that all of this had been Merlin's craft. The only other person who knew about the Adamson School plan was Vivian, and she was banking on it succeeding just as much as Morgana, was and wouldn't do anything to conflict with it. But Merlin on the other hand…he had made it clear that he would do everything in his power to deter Morgana and Vivian, and he was as quick as a whip.

After all, Morgana did have reason to believe that Merlin was privy to some information to the Adamson School because it was he who delivered their initial letter to her, and there was no missing the letter head which prominently displayed the school name. She knew for a fact that Merlin had snuck into her room to read her diary…but had he actually gone through her drawers too? Morgana was not only vibrating in sheer fury, she also felt violated. Most likely, all of her personal things had been rummaged through by Merlin.

Eavesdropping on her and Vivian's conversation at the Fall Ball was one thing, going through her diary was even more grievous…but now this? Now he had upgraded to impersonating her "assistant", and _effectively _derailing any and every plan Morgana had to get Gwen as far away from Arthur as possible…he had taken a giant leap over the proverbial line, this time.

If Morgana hadn't been convinced already, she was now. Time was running out, and the one trick she had up her sleeve had been intercepted with destructive efficiency. If she hadn't known it already, she did now: Merlin was a force to be reckoned with, and was obviously capable of getting down and dirty as well. The gloves were definitely off.

* * *

><p>"Wait, Gwen, don't turn the dial! Leave it on this station!" Lorenzo began to snap his fingers, and move his hips at the music which emanated through the ham radio's speakers. He had just gotten his cast off yesterday, and he was already enjoying the increased range of movement he now had without his cumbersome plastered ankle. Lorenzo closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the sound of the music before smiling. "It's a happy song, Gwen, for dancing. Do you like it?" He asked with a bright smile, pushing some of his dark brown wavy hair out of his eyes.<p>

Gwen watched Lorenzo dance in place behind the counter of his empty store, unable to contain her laughter as she watched Lorenzo's rhythmic movements. "I can't understand a word they're saying!"

"Ahh, you don't need to understand the words. It's music, it's universal, isn't it?"

Gwen raised an eyebrow at Lorenzo's statement. "I guess it is." She pointed toward him, with a broad smile. "You've got some moves there!"

"Nah, not really," Lorenzo said waving his hand. "C'mon, let's see yours!" He said opening his muscular arms in invitation. "I'm sure you can move much better than me."

"I can't. I got two left feet."

"Ah c'mon Gwen, no you don't. Everyone can dance, even if it's just a little."

Lorenzo moved around the counter, where Gwen stood, watching him. "Give me your hands."

"What, why?" Gwen asked pulling them quickly away from Lorenzo's grasp.

"I'm not gonna bite! I'll show you that you _can _dance." Lorenzo held out his rough hands, facing his palms upwards, as Gwen cautiously placed her own into his.

Slowly, Lorenzo began to shuffle his feet forward and backward, making his hips move in the same direction to the rhythm. "Just follow my feet."

Gwen didn't want to make him feel bad, so she followed his movement, her left foot moving her his right had been, and vice versa.

Lorenzo laughed as he watched Gwen move to the upbeat music as easily and rhythmically as he did. "Muy bien! You're a natural."

Gwen smiled. "You're making it easy for me, I'm not a total klutz."

"Alright, alright. Move your arms a little, then. Don't think about it, just…feel the beat." Lorenzo nodded as Gwen's arms and shoulders moved, causing him to laugh.

"Am I doing it wrong?"

"No, you're perfect! Who told you couldn't dance?" Lorenzo placed his hands on her hips, spinning her around, then dipping her just as quickly, only to pull her back up with his hands resting firmly on her hips.

Gwen looked up at Lorenzo with large eyes and a smile, just catching her breath. "Where'd you learn to do that?

Lorenzo shrugged as he began to shuffle once more. "It was a simple dip. I've been dancing since I was a kid; my family is very…musical."

The fast song slowly melted off as a more slow paced oone came on, filling the small and empty grocery store. Lorenzo was about to step away from Gwen, not wanting her to feel awkward or obligated to continue dancing, but his mind quickly changed as Gwen's arms came up, resting on his shoulders, as she adjusted her pace to the music.

"My mama really liked dancing, she said it freed the soul," Gwen said quietly. "She'd try and teach me some steps every now and then."

"You're doing great now," Lorenzo assured her. "You should come to a party in my neighborhood, all there is is dancing…and food, lots of food!"

"If I went to your neighborhood would it be okay?" Gwen asked suddenly.

Lorenzo tilted his head slightly, realizing that it was only a few inches away from Gwen's. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…I'm a colored. Would people be offended if I was at your house? At your parties?"

Lorenzo had to stop himself from laughing so near to her face. "I'm a colored too, ya know."

"Well, technically, I guess…"

"No, you'd be fine Gwen. It's like how I go to your neighborhood; I drive up and people don't even look twice. They'll wave as I pass, and say 'hi' to me once I step out, remember that time I even played a game of hopscotch with some of your neighborhood girls?"

Gwen laughed at the memory. "That was cute. They've been talking 'bout you ever since."

"Well, nothing would be different with you, no one would be 'offended', trust me. It's not a white neighborhood or anything, the dogs won't be let out on you."

Gwen couldn't help but giggle. "That's at least a little reassuring!"

"Besides, my family is dying to meet you."

"But I've met your dad."

"My mama wants to meet you too, and cook you a big dinner. And if she does, trust me; there'll be dancing. And my sisters have been on my back forever, asking me when they're finally gonna meet you; they wanna see if you're pretty or not."

Gwen smiled. "If I'm pretty? And what did you tell them?"

"Well, I told them the truth: that you're beautiful."

Gwen looked away for a moment to hide her blush.

Lorenzo smiled as Gwen finally looked back up at him. "It's good to see you laughing and smiling again Gwen, it feels like today is the first time I've seen you happy all week."

"Sorry if I've been a drag all week. It's been a lot of stuff. Elliot and I aren't talkin', work is…stressful and confusing."

"Confusing?" Lorenzo asked, as Gwen's small and warm hands grazed his neck.

"I'm not even sure if that's the right word for it…" Gwen murmured. "But, things will get better soon, it'll be hard, but I know I'll get over it."

Lorenzo remained silent at Gwen's cryptic message, figuring that when she wanted to tell him what exactly was going on, she would.

Gwen tilted her head slightly, looking up into Lorenzo's soft brown eyes. "You always listen to me Lorenzo, even when I'm sure I'm talking your ear off. You can be quiet at times, but I always know that you care about what I say. And you're so patient with me."

"It's hard not to be when you're the same way."

"Isn't it funny how we can talk about anything under the sun like a pair of old friends? I think you're the best one I've ever had."

Lorenzo cleared his throat slightly. "Well you mean a lot to me Gwen."

"Aww, you mean a lot to me too, Lorenzo," Gwen said with a sweet smile. "I know—" Gwen's next words would never be known, for she was cut off as Lorenzo quickly raised her chin, covering her soft lips with his own.

The moment Gwen's mind registered what was happening, she tensed. It wasn't that the kiss was unpleasant in any way, only that it took her by complete surprise. One moment she was telling Lorenzo how grateful she was for him, and the next he was holding her and kissing her. But Gwen's tension quickly dissipated as Lorenzo pulled her in by her lower back, holding her flush against him…and Gwen came to the stark realization that she didn't want him to stop. He felt too good, and at that moment, that was the only thing she wanted. To feel good and happy again, and she did; with him.

It was as if Gwen's entire mind had shut down, especially when her hands traveled up his neck to his wavy hair, and his strong hands caressed her lower back gently as the unexpected kiss deepened. As always, he was gentle and patient with her, his touch delicate and caring, and kissing her with such an intensity that Gwen had shivers running throughout her body. But it was when Lorenzo pulled apart from her slightly, taking one of her curls, and twirling it in his fingers that Gwen pulled away completely. The simple and semi-intimate gesture reminded her of Arthur too much, and how much he loved playing with her hair. She couldn't continue with Lorenzo once that thought entered her mind. She felt like she was betraying Arthur…again.

Lorenzo pushed some hair out of his eyes, realizing what he had done as Gwen had detached herself from his embrace. He laced his fingers together, resting them behind his head, as his words came out softly and slightly jumbled. "Gwen, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. That's not what friends do. Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!"

"…Lorenzo, I don't know what to say. But I kissed you back." Gwen stated plainly. "I kissed you back," she repeated, but more to herself this time. Gwen put a hand on her forehead, turning slightly on her heels to look away from Lorenzo for a moment, her gaze colliding directly with Merlin's, who watched her wide eyed from the store front window. Just perfect.

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired By: "Stop Right There" by Assemble the Skyline<em>


	26. Chapter 26

_OFFICIALLY the longest chapter to date! I've never enjoyed writing a chapter as much as this (I think I even had more fun than writing the "fire chapter"). Preliminary warning: most (probably all) of the things which happen in this chapter I haven't personally experienced (thank God!), so I beg your pardon in advance if it's…lacking (not sure if that's the right word; but you tell me!). Constructive criticism please! I don't have a beta, so unless you lovely readers tell me, I'll keep making the same mistakes._

_Anyway, lots of exciting things happen in this chapter, so let me know what you think in a comment! Add me to your story alert/favorites if I'm not already there! Also, don't forget to tell all your friends about "MLMS", and I want to say thanks again for reading my ramblings and meditations in prose. Happy reading (warning: coarse language, sort of)._

_YoureAnIllusion_

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><p><strong>Chapter 26: Heavy Hangs the Albatross<strong>

Merlin ran a hand through his dark hair as he put his car into park, reclining into his driver's seat, closing his eyes. He had been worrying so much, that he literally felt like his brain was going to explode: from Arthur to Gwen, from Morgana to Vivian, Merlin just felt totally overwhelmed. Not to mention that he was chugging through his last year of college, and he'd soon have to "worry" about a job.

His parents were coming home from their trip to Guam sometime next week, and he decided to purchase his mother a candle as a small "welcome home" present from Lorenzo's store. Hopping out of his car, not bothering to lock it, Merlin made his way across the street towards Lorenzo's storefront. Yet, as he neared, he could make out two figures, who appeared to be dancing in front of the counter. Merlin literally stopped in his tracks as he realized that the two people dancing were in fact Gwen and Lorenzo. Totally enraptured and apprehensive, Merlin watched for a little longer, only covering his mouth in awe as he watched the two wrap around each other and share a kiss. But that single kiss went on…and on…and _on_. Merlin stood there, his muscles going limp as his car keys fell out of his hands, hitting the hard pavement, but the noise was of no distraction to Lorenzo and Gwen. As far as they knew, they were making out in front of an empty store front window.

_Oh my God…I'm really watching this. I'm really watching Gwen kiss Lorenzo. Boy, don't they need to come up for air? Wait, what am I thinking?_ _Gwen! What are you doing!_ _You still love Arthur! I know you do! Stop it, stop it right now! Stop touching him, before—_ Merlin's mental tirade was paused, jolted by Gwen and Lorenzo's sudden detachment. Each took a large step away from the other, and Lorenzo's movements clearly became frantic. Gwen turned around with a hand to her head, slowly looking up, only to have her eyes lock with Merlin. Surprise!

Unsure of what to do in such an awkward situation, Merlin bent to pick up his fallen keys, waving to Gwen with a grimace. She just stared at him, and Lorenzo came behind her, he too looking out the window and at Merlin.

_Ah shit…_Merlin didn't know what else to do, except motion with his hands uncomfortably that he was going the other way, and booked it back to his car, where he took a minute or two to indulge in all of the swears known encompassed within English language, and he was sure that he even made a few up.

* * *

><p>The next day Merlin found himself at the front of the Pendragon's mansion, flanked by their staff and Morgana to his right. They all had just gathered at the front of the house, waiting for Uther's long black limousine to pull up in front of the fountain and reveal its precious cargo after a three day departure.<p>

Merlin and Morgana stood patiently at the front, the first who would greet Arthur and Uther once they finally arrived any minute. Suddenly, one of the servants -+called out: "they're a'comin'! Y'all,hush up now!"

Merlin smiled as the limousine came into view, with Morgana doing the same until she felt Merlin's hot breath against her neck as he leaned over.

"I see you put your horns away for the occasion, Morgana."

Morgana turned to him, frowning with narrowed eyes. "I did actually," she replied with sarcasm. "But, it seems that you put yours away as well, _Ellis_." Morgana straightened with pride as she heard Merlin quietly gasp, before clenching his jaw together, turning away from her completely.

Luckily, the awkward silence didn't last for long, for as soon as the limousine stopped, Uther stepped out with open arms.

"Morgana!" He happily sang, moving to give his niece a tight hug.

"Oh Uncle, we've all missed you so much." Morgana pulled away, her uncle still holding her by the shoulders. "I trust your trip went well?"

Uther turned to give his son a hearty pat on the back as Arthur moved to stand next to him. "It was absolutely splendid, dear! The company is running as smooth as butter, and Arthur made me very proud! I got compliments left and right; people telling me what a 'fine young man' I had raised. His intellect and leadership skills were as clear as day, and he learned a great deal. Isn't it true, son?"

"It all went really well. I can't wait for next year."

"That's great Arthur, so you were all nervous for nothin' then?" Morgana asked with a genuine smile.

Arthur shrugged, looking at the staff that congregated at the front of the house, realizing that they were becoming antsy. "I guess I was."

"And what about Vivian? How did she enjoy it?"

"The poor girl is dog tired. She's at home resting; too much excitement for one weekend!" Uther chuckled, met by half-hearted laughs from both Morgana and Merlin. "But she and Arthur did make a fine pair at the governor's ball," Uther said nudging his son with his elbow, only to find him in a daze. All three looked at Arthur whose attention was fixated straight ahead, his hands falling into his pockets.

Merlin quickly turned around, following Arthur's eyes; and of course running right into Gwen. Merlin snapped back to Arthur who practically ogled at her longingly, and he had to resist telling his friend to "snap out of it".

"Yoohoo," Morgana said waving her hands, garnering Arthur's attention. She too looked over her shoulder, though she already knew who had captivated her cousin's attention.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I reckon that I'm dog tired as well," Arthur said with a weak smile. "I'm going to go in now and change out of these clothes, and maybe lay down."

Uther nodded understandingly. "Fine idea."

Arthur turned around to walk up the white stone steps, looking once more at Gwen, before realizing that he couldn't look upon her much longer without doing something…dramatic.

"Hey! Arthur, wait up man!" Merlin called behind Arthur, who made a direct bee-line through the foyer, and up the stair case. Merlin took each step two at a time, finally catching up with Arthur at the top, jumping in front of his friend. "Whoa, you've been gone for three days, and not so much as a 'hey'?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, taking his hands out of his pockets. "Hey," he grunted.

Merlin took a step back, letting Arthur pass to his room, following him in moments later. "Excuse me," Merlin began, looking back at the closed door with a confused expression, "but did I miss somethin'?"

Arthur immediately began to tug at his red silk tie, shrugging off his Italian jacket. "Nope," he said simply, continuing to undress right in front of Merlin. He was halfway through unbuttoning his shirt when Merlin finally spoke again.

"Did something happen on the trip?"

"Nope." Off came the shirt, thrown to the ground instantaneously.

"Did something happen on the way back?"

Arthur rolled his eyes again, undoing his belt, throwing it on his bed.

"Are you going to get naked in front of me?" Merlin asked in complete seriousness, earning him an ice-cold glare from Arthur. Merlin watched Arthur clean out his pockets, which had reached a wad of money, a few receipts, and something heavy which he couldn't see from his angle. He moved a little bit around the bed, before he frowned, before looking up at Arthur sadly.

"What Merlin? And would you quit looking at me like that, you're givin' me the heebie-jeebies," Arthur growled, walking to his dresser.

Merlin reached over, picking up Gwen's—well, it used to be hers—sapphire necklace, which Arthur had pulled out of his pocket. He twirled it in his hands, before Arthur snatched it up, his eyes wild and angry.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Merlin blinked once, unaware that his simple action would warrant such a reaction. "I, uhh, I was just—"

Arthur closed his fists, his fingers encasing the silver necklace. "Don't touch it ever again."

"I, uhh, I didn't know. Sorry?"

Arthur sighed, turning away as he placed the necklace on the top of his dresser, putting on the shirt he had just taken out.

"So, this mood, it's 'cause of Gwen, right?"

Arthur just gave Merlin another silent glare, conceding that such an idiotic question didn't deserve a valid answer.

"Do you…carry her necklace around with you every where?" Merlin asked cautiously.

"And what if I did?" Arthur asked stepping out of his pants, and pulling on a pair of khakis with no shame. He reached backward towards the dresser, putting the necklace back into his pants pocket.

"Whoa…that's really…"

"Crazy?" Arthur asked with a snort. "I know. But, it's only been a week the wounds are still a little raw. Maybe it isn't healthy to carry a piece of her with me everywhere, but…"

"Is that how you see it? That you're carrying a piece of her with you wherever you go?" Merlin asked sadly.

Arthur shrugged, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Or maybe I'm just making sure it's in safe keeping for when she wants it back."

Merlin's shoulders slumped as he heard a slight uptick of hope and positivity in Arthur's tone, at the thought of having Gwen back. He sucked in a breath, the sharp movement physically paining him, or maybe it was something else.

"I know that eventually Guinevere and I will be together again. I know her," Arthur assured Merlin, the thickness in his tone thinning out.

"How's that?" Merlin croaked.

"Because we're destined for each other," Arthur answered as if it were obvious. "I know right now she thinks that sometimes I can be jealous, and immature and—maybe I am."

Merlin gulped loudly. "Arthur…"

"But! I know she still loves me, even though she wants her space for now. So I've been thinking: all I have to do is prove to her that I'm really the man who she fell in love with, not the loser she had to break up with. And eventually she'll see that we're meant to be—"

"Arthur, there's something you've gotta know."

"Jeez, let me finish, will ya? Anyhow, Guinevere is sensitive. She suffers in silence, but I can be—"

"Arthur: Gwen's with Lorenzo!" Merlin blurted out suddenly, cutting Arthur off mid sentence. The moment the four words fell from his lips, Merlin covered his mouth with both hands. His eyes widening as he realized what he had just said. Oh no, that definitely did not come out the way Merlin had planned. He groaned quietly, as Arthur's mouth closed so fast and hard that it made a loud snapping sound. Slowly, he tilted his head, looking at Merlin who stood mortified like a statue. Both stood silently for the longest time, neither sure what to say next.

But when Arthur finally did, his words were delivered with a guttural growl, Arthur's jaw clenching together. "You've lost your damn mind. You don't know what you're talking 'bout!"

"I saw them! I saw Lorenzo and Gwen together—"

Arthur's eyes narrowed in confusion, as he shook his head. "They're always together you idiot! They're friends!"

"_No_ Arthur. I went to Lorenzo's store to buy something, and I saw them—kissing."

"I—" Arthur was preparing a retort to defend Gwen, until he really listened to Merlin's words. "Slow down. They were…kissing?" Arthur hardly whispered, paining Merlin even more.

Merlin took a deep breath, as he nodded slightly. He didn't trust himself to talk too much without his voice shaking. "Arthur, I'm so _so_ sorry."

Arthur put his hands behind his head, slowly stepping away from Merlin. "Merlin, you must be mistaken. It's only been a week!" Arthur's back ran into a wall, as he continued. "S-s-she said—Guinevere looked me square in the eye, and told me she loved me."

"Arthur, she still may. I don't know the full story, just what I saw."

"Just what you saw!" Arthur rested a hand on his forehead, looking away from his friend. "If someone loves you, they're not cramming their tongue down another guy's throat in the next week!" Arthur's voice was hardly a whisper this time, instead his booming words nearly reverberated against the room's walls, they were delivered with so much intensity. "God…my life just keeps getting better and better!" Arthur laughed, throwing his arms up.

Merlin wiggled uncomfortably.

"I would_ never_ even think of doing that to her!" Arthur rasped, turning his back to Merlin.

"Arthur…you two aren't together," Merlin said with caution, earning him a sharp glare, before he elaborated. "I'm not saying it's right, but…it's not like she's cheating on you."

"It doesn't matter, Merlin. I wouldn't care if it was a week, a month, or even a year! But the fact that it's him! She thinks I'm jealous and insecure? My God! There really was something going on all this time! She's been lying to me _all this_ time."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Arthur, you don't know that. Maybe I shouldn't have said it the way I did—"

"Well I do know the full story." Arthur shook his head, walking to his desk where he picked up his cigarette carton. "Jesus," he hissed, stuffing the carton into his pocket. "I'm such a fucking chump. For the past week, the only thing I could think about was her, and how I could win her back. But she's obviously been enjoying herself just fine, getting felt up by another guy. Boy, she doesn't waste any time." Arthur snorted in disgust, walking over to his bed, where he picked up the wad of cash he had placed there. "This is what 'love' does to a person; it makes them a blind and ignorant fool."

"C'mon, Arthur."

Arthur shook his head vigorously, as he stared at a wall. "I obviously meant absolutely _nothing_ to her—I've gotta get outta here. I can't be in this house with her for another second, I think I'm fixin' to hurl," Arthur said heading for his bedroom door, with Merlin at his heels.

"Let me come with you!"

"No!" Arthur roared, causing Merlin to flinch. "I just wanna be alone right now; take a long drive to clear my head."

Merlin resisted asking Arthur if that long drive would be off of a steep cliff…

" I just want to be by my lonesome." Arthur didn't spare Merlin another look, for he sprinted down the stairs in the next moment, nearly toppling Morgana over, who clung onto the railing as her cousin sped past her.

She looked up at Merlin, then back down to Arthur who had already gone through the door. "He flew outta here like a bat outta hell!" She exclaimed, a hand flying to her partially revealed chest. "What on earth happened to him?" Morgana asked walking up the remainder of the steps, standing directly in front of Merlin.

"Please; like you care," Merlin scoffed, before nearly pushing his way past Morgana.

* * *

><p>Merlin stepped out of the shower, his bathroom mirror fogged up from the nearly half an hour long shower he had indulged in. While he only spent a fraction of that time getting clean, his thoughts were mainly on Arthur, and wondering how he was doing. After he had left for his long car ride, Merlin decided it was best that he went home, and if Arthur wanted to talk, he knew where he could find him. So far, there was no word, and that was okay. Merlin was sure that Arthur had returned home a couple of hours later, barricading himself in his room, smoking his lungs out.<p>

Merlin walked over to his dresser, with a towel around his waist, his wet feet leaving a trail of moisture the entire way. Quickly he slipped on his underwear and pajama pants, shrugging on his silk night top next. As he bent down to add a thick pair of socks for his chilled feet, he nearly hit his head against the bottom of the bed, the loud and ringing of his house phone startling him. Slowly, as to avoid hazard, he stood up straight, looking at the phone which sat on his desk, vibrating from the ringing. Cautiously, yet with curiosity, Merlin picked up the receiver, clearing his throat before speaking. "Uhh…hello?" Merlin's hand instinctively jerked away from his ear with the receiver, as he was assaulted by deafening background noise, so much so that he almost missed the husky voice on the other end.

"Yeah, is this here Marvin?"

Another man could be heard faintly, his words too nearly drowned out by the noise. "The boy's name is Merlin you knucklehead!"

"Huh? What kinda fool name is 'Merlin'?" The first man asked, his voice muffled slightly. "Actually, I'm lookin' for someone by the name of Merlin?" He corrected himself.

Merlin's eyes narrowed in confusion, as he tried to distinguish the voice of the caller, but he came up with nothing."I'm Merlin. Can I help you?"

"Wheew! I sure hope so," the man said with a labored sigh. "Listen: this here is Hank Haverty, bartender and manager at the 'Rising Sun'."

Merlin's head tilted to the side. "…The Rising Sun?"

"Yes sir, the big bar downtown on Spruce Street; you can't miss it."

Merlin's gut began to knot at the bartender's clarification.

"Look buddy: a pal of yours, Arthur or somethin', he's down here, and he's way past his limit. He's startin' to be a handful; makin' noise and cursin' and carrying on. Out of his mind, the kid nearly got in a fight with a regular here whose twice his size. After that, I was fixin' to phone the sheriff, to let this Arthur fella detox in a cage overnight, but some folks said I oughta phone you, 'cause y'all two are like kin. Is that true?"

Merlin sighed, rubbing his temples as he shook his head. "Yes sir, we're like kin."

"Well good, 'cause I reckon the boy's been down here for a good two hours at least. So you oughta come fetch him before I'm left to clean up his puke, or pick his teeth up off of the floor; catch my drift?"

Merlin covered his eyes, shaking his head. Arthur was at it again. And he had been doing so well, so well. "Yeah, I do," Merlin said with a deep sigh, looking down at his silk pajamas.

"Good. But, I gotta warn you; my charity is runnin' low, and this is a mighty rare favor—"

"Thank you for your consideration, I appreciate it."

"Well, don't thank me yet, 'cause if you aint here in twenty minutes, I'm phoning the sheriff for real this time. Ya hear? I don't want no trouble mister, I'm just tryin' to do the good Christian thing here."

Merlin let out a deep breath looking at his clock. "I hear you loud and clear Hank. I'll be there in ten minutes flat." Merlin agreed, dropping the phone back into the cradle. He nearly tripped over himself as he ran to as he ran to snatch up his usual brown corduroy pants, throwing on a jacket which was lying around. He ran into the empty hall way, hopping on one foot as he struggled to get on his shoes. Moments later, he was snatching his keys off of the hook near the front door, rushing out of his house and to his car.

* * *

><p>Merlin was true to his word, pulling up in front of bar within the next ten minutes, parallel parking across the street, thankful that a close parking space was available. He waited for traffic to slow down, before running across the street as fast as his lanky legs could take him. Before he was even in front of the bar, Merlin could hear the noise, and plugged his ears as reflex.<strong> O<strong>pening the door, the thick stench of alcohol mingled with cigarettes was ghastly enough to physically knock him back in revulsion. Resisting the urge to plug his nose as well, Merlin was able to take one foot step past the threshold, before nearly colliding with a giddy couple who practically stumbled through the door. They propped each other up, laughing all the way out, and nudging Merlin to the side without a care. Merlin's gaze lingered on them, watching them nearly stumble into a drunken heap on the sidewalk, and he found himself looking into the crowded and smell bar, praying that Arthur wasn't that intoxicated. But Arthur had a habit of setting drinking world records when he was upset…and he was definitely upset tonight.

Merlin took courage, walking past a group of gambling men, who paused in their game to give him suspicious glances. In another corner was a group of college boys, a couple of whom Merlin recognized, and stared at him as well as he weaved his way through the cigarette-smelling hoard, who exerted no effort to make his passage to the bar counter any easier. Merlin continuously scanned room, searching in vain for any sign of Arthur.

"Excuse me," Merlin said raising his voice, calling to the other end of the bar where a stocky man stood, cleaning a glass with a towel. "Excuse me!" Merlin let out again, this time gaining the man's attention.

"What would it be for you?" He asked throwing the white towel over his left shoulder.

Merlin shook his head waving his hands. "I'm not here to drink, actually. My name's Merlin, I'm looking for Hank?"

"Well you found him," the stocky man said with open arms.

Merlin sighed in partial relief. "Thanks a ton for calling me…so where's Arthur? He_ is_ still here, right?" Merlin stood up on his tip toes trying again to survey the room.

Hank laughed heartily, resting his elbows on the bar. "Oh, he's still here alright. It seems that the kid's got company; well I'll be damned," Hank chuckled, pointing to the far end of the room where Arthur indeed sat tucked away in a booth…with a girl on each arm.

"How long has he been _there_?" Merlin asked, looking in Arthur's direction. He was calculating how best to broach the situation.

"At that table? I aint sure. But right before I phoned you, he was up on the tables, hollering some song and dancing like a bona fide fool," Hank reported, shaking his head at the not so distant memory. "But it looks like the ladies don't mind. In fact, they been flockin' to him_ all_ night. I just don't understand these hussies," Hank said with a disapproving shake of his bald head.

Merlin's shoulders slumped. "Is he _that_ drunk?" He asked the question, knowing he'd dread the answer, or else he wouldn't have been there in the first place.

"I reckon the boy's done cleaned me out of all the good bourbon and scotch. And I'll tell ya; that stuff aint for no wimps!" Hank exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "He don't go for the cheap stuff, and that's the Gospel truth."

Merlin sighed, still watching Arthur laugh away with the two girls. He didn't look _too_ drunk…

"Well, I 'preciate you comin' mister, but you gotta take your buddy up on out of here. His mood's been changin' faster than a woman's, and I don't need no brawls. No siree, not tonight."

Merlin shot a glare at the thick bartender, just as someone accidentally nudged him in the shoulder. "Well he's so smashed, how come you didn't cut him off?"

The bartender returned Merlin's glare, as he dug into his pockets pulling out a set of car keys, avoiding the obvious question. "Can you believe that the kid was actually fixin' to waltz on outta here, and drive on home? I said 'no sir, you aint killing no one on my watch!'" Hank dropped the keys into Merlin's open hand, pointing over in Arthur's direction, signifying that the conversation was over.

Merlin stuffed Arthur's keys into his own pocket; he wouldn't be needing them any time soon. Taking a breath for composure, Merlin slowly made his way to where Arthur sat, able to hear his laughter over the thick noise the closer he reached.

Arthur was crammed into one side of the booth with two girls, who apparently didn't mind the tight squeeze. When Merlin finally stood next to the table, he realized that the two girls were from his college, but he didn't know them, and he was pretty sure that Arthur didn't either. But that didn't stop their roving hands: the red-head on Arthur's left was playing with his hair, giggling into his ear. While the dirty blonde on Arthurs right made small circles on his shoulder, her hand dangerously high and secure on his thigh. And Arthur was in the middle, a beer in front of him, and a lit cigarette in the ash tray, swiveling his head back and forth to talk to his two admirers.

"Heeyyyy! Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed with a long drawl, finally noting Merlin's presence, who watched him with arms crossed tightly over his chest. Arthur smiled broadly, his eyes hazy and his speech rapid and slurred, complimenting his disheveled hair. "Buddy, you came to party too?"

The two girls turned their attention away from Arthur, and to Merlin, sizing him up.

"Arthur, let's go. You're wasted." Merlin said sternly, looking at the two girls with disdain.

"Go? Why the hell would I do that! We're havin' fun, right girls?"

The two giggled, nodding vigorously. "Mmhmmm!"

"C'mon Merlin," Arthur said raising his beer. "Grab a seat, and I'll order you a good ol' beer! Loosen up, life's too short!" Arthur said with a laugh, but he evoked no reaction from Merlin, who remained stoic. "Let me introduce you to my two new girl friends. This lovely gal here," Arthur turned to the red-head, his hand falling on her shoulder clumsily. "This is Gina—"

"It's 'Gloria'," the red head interrupted.

"Oh…yeah. And this beautiful girl to my right—no left—no _right_; this is Lucy."

Merlin pushed his hair back, thinking for a moment before asking: "Ah, your name's Lucy?"

The dirty blonde gave Merlin a sultry once over, before offering him a coy smile. "Yeah…"

"Wow, that's really funny," Merlin said feigning a laugh.

She smiled wider. "What's so funny 'bout it?"

Merlin pointed to Arthur, who smiled, oblivious and giddy, looking like a complete moron. "That's the name of Arthur's _fiancé_. Her name's Lucy, she's a nice girl, aint she Arthur? Lucy your _fiancé_? Remember _her_?" Merlin asked tilting his head, resisting a smirk as the blonde girl shot up in offense.

"What, you're gonna get hitched?" The blonde asked in outrage, immediately getting out of the booth and away from Arthur.

"What?" Arthur asked alarmed, as the blonde stood.

"C'mon Gloria, let's jet. He's a loser anyhow," Lucy scoffed.

Gloria practically pushed Arthur off of her as she stepped over him, the two girls pausing next to the table to give Arthur a look laden with disgust.

"Ladies, wait! I aint engaged! It's a lie!" Arthur exclaimed with open arms.

The two rolled their eyes at Arthur, nearly in unison, disappearing into the crowd moments later.

"What the hell was that for!" Arthur yelled, slamming his fist against the table, nearly knocking over the glass ash tray.

Merlin watched the two girls walk away in repulsion, yet thoroughly proud of his handiwork. Now, it was just a matter of getting Arthur to walk away as well. The only thing was that when he was drunk, all of his negative features were increased tenfold…like his stubbornness. And Arthur was indeed drunk. Merlin was standing a few feet from his friend, and he could literally smell the booze on him, he looked closer, realizing that something had spilled on his shirt. Classy.

"What'd you go and lie for? I don't have a girl!"

"You'll thank me later; when you're sober."

"What are you talking 'bout; I'm sober as a judge!" Arthur wrapped his hand around his beer taking a large swig. "I feel great! In fact," Arthur looked down at his bottle, shaking it slightly. "I think I need another beer, the night just started!"

Merlin looked down at his wrist-watch before groaning. "Give me that!" He snapped, snatching the brown beer bottle away from Arthur, setting it on the table behind him. "I got a call saying that you've been making a ruckus, and I've gotta take you home."

"Shit, I don't wanna go home! And I haven't been makin' a ruckus; just been having some fun! Can't a man live it up a little?"

"You either leave with me, or the sheriff, because if we're not outta here in five minutes, your ass is getting hauled off to county. Is that what you want?"

"I wanna stay here, have a few more drinks, talk to a few more girls; have some fun! Arthur said with a laugh, running a hand through his hair.

"This isn't fun. It's dangerous. Drinking your blues away isn't healthy; that's what alcoholics do."

"Go to hell Merlin," Arthur grumbled, picking up the cigarette which was in the ash tray, the embers at the end still orange and glowing. Arthur took a generous drag, watching Merlin through narrowed eyes. "No one here is drinking their blues away. I just wasn't fixing to stay cooped up in that house with my good-for-nothin'-two-timin'-'Arthur-I-love-you' ex."

Merlin had to remind himself that when someone was intoxicated, they no longer possessed their full mental capacity, and said the first thing which came to mind. "It's the bourbon talking, not you."

"Well, the bourbon don't lie."

Merlin rolled his eyes, not willing to listen to another word, as he reached out, tugging on Arthur's arm. "Do you want your father to find out 'bout this? Because when the sheriff hauls your ass off to jail, it'll be him paying your bail." Merlin realized that Arthur wasn't budging, so he dropped his arm, throwing up his own. "Fine! I'm leaving. You can just—"

"Wait! I don't wanna go to jail!" Whatever shred of sobriety was left in Arthur was finally rearing its head, as Arthur took one last inhale of his cigarette, smashing the butt into the ash tray. He stood to follow Merlin, only to realize in the next moment that his legs weren't as trusty as they had been earlier on. Arthur toppled forward, grappling for Merlin who barely caught him, and straightened after exerting much effort, and a grunt.

"I don't think you need to be drinking again 'til next year!" Merlin took Arthur's arm, slinging it around his neck, beginning to sort of hobble away from the booth.

Arthur was babbling incoherently; something about how he bet Gwen wasn't having as nearly as much fun right at that moment, and how he was in the right mood to kick Lorenzo's ass, et cetera.

"Hold up!" Arthur burst out, stopping Merlin right before the bar's exit.

"What?" Merlin grumbled, Arthur's weight already irritating him, not to mention he reeked of booze and cigarettes.

"That low down bastard of a bartender…" Arthur grumbled, feeling around his pockets frantically before gasping in offense. "That yellow-bellied son of a bitch! He thieved my car keys, Merlin!"

"No, he didn't I've got them."

"Well hand 'em over then!" Arthur demanded like a child begging for his toy.

"Arthur, you can't even walk straight. You're coming home with me and spending the night; your dad doesn't need to see you like this."

Merlin continued to walk supporting Arthur, taking the few steps necessary to put them outside on the busy sidewalk. With Arthur practically draped across his back, Merlin's eyes darted up and down the street, as he tried to figure out how to cross the active road without getting flattened out like a pancake.

"Alright, listen to me." Merlin began, only to find Arthur in a daze, staring off into the distance. Merlin smacked his jaw several times with an open hand, garnering Arthur's attention. "Look, I know you're plastered, but can you please just focus and help me out a little?" Merlin pointed across the street to his car, and Arthur raised his head slightly, to look in the direction of Merlin's slender index finger. "That's my car, okay?" Merlin said really slowly. "We need to walk," he moved his index and middle fingers alternately to mimick a walking motion, "so we can get to my car without ending up like some road kill." He then slapped his hands together, rubbing his flat palms back and forth to symbolize something getting smashed.

"I aint simple Merlin, I do understand English," Arthur said, beginning to sound woozy. Great.

Merlin couldn't help but smile at Arthur's comment. "Alright, just one foot lean on me and—" As Merlin looked behind him to make sure there was no incoming traffic, he found something even worse; Gwen and Lorenzo waiting on the sidewalk for the stop-light to change in order to cross. Merlin peered closer, realizing that it was clearly them, laughing and talking with one another, illuminated by the street lights.

_Oh God, could you _please_ throw me a bone down here? I'm tryin'!_ Merlin prayed, turning around quickly, trying to get far enough down the walk, to where Gwen and Lorenzo couldn't catch up or recognize them. But it would be a considerable feat, considering that Arthur wasn't the most cooperative being when he was in a drunken stupor.

_Shit, shit, shit! _Merlin exclaimed in his mind, walking as fast as he could, but realizing that it wasn't nearly fast enough. _She can't see him like this, whatever happens, Gwen _cannot_ see Arthur like this! And Lorenzo is with her? Why! This night is going from terrible to level 10 disaster!_

Now Arthur began to drag his feet like a zombie, moaning about a head ache as he slowed down nearly to a standstill.

Merlin looked over his shoulder quickly, to find Gwen and Lorenzo speedily approaching, too engrossed in each other to notice he and Arthur yet. "You better get used to it! A head ache!" Merlin scoffed, nudging Arthur sharply in the ribs. "Keep moving! C'mon Arthur, or else—"

"Merlin? Is that you?"

_No! No, it's not me! Don't call me again!_

"Merlin!" Gwen nearly yelled this time, cupping her hands around her mouth to project her voice down the street.

If he could, Merlin would have picked up Arthur like a sack of potatoes, and run to his car with him; but he was neither strong enough nor able to avoid Gwen's detection for a moment longer. He was stuck. "Arthur, don't say _anything_!" Merlin hissed in a whisper. "Just keep your drunk mouth—"

"Guinevere!" Arthur exclaimed happily, spinning around to face Gwen as she approached, causing Merlin to finally turn, after almost losing his balance for the second time.

Gwen abruptly stopped walking, and Lorenzo paused as well. "Arthur?" Gwen whispered giving him a once over, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Babe, it's me! Why are you lookin' at me funny?" Arthur asked with a laugh. Arthur turned to Merlin, tilting his head to the side. "What's wrong with Gwen?" Arthur put a hand to the side of his cheek, bring his voice down to what he probably thought was a whisper. "She don't look too hot, does she?"

Gwen watched the interaction, a hand covering her mouth, as she blinked. "Oh my goodness, Arthur…are you drunk? Merlin, is he drunk?"

Merlin was too slow to respond, as Arthur's mouth overcame his incapacitated brain yet again.

"Drunk? No! Just happy to see you, baby!" Arthur slurred loudly, before turning his attention to Lorenzo, pointing directly at him. "Hey, what's this guy doin' here?"

Merlin quickly stopped the conversation, for the four were garnering more curious and lingering glances with each passing moment. "Arthur, shut up," he hissed.

"No you shut up!" Arthur exclaimed at Merlin, mumbling incoherently afterwards.

Gwen hand fell to her side, as her eyes widened to saucers. "My God, Merlin, what happened to him?" Gwen asked whispered in terror.

Merlin secured Arthur's arm around his neck, slumping a little under his weight. "He had a few too many, that's all. I just need to get him back to my house."

"A _few_ too many?" Lorenzo asked with skepticism, watching Arthur cling onto Merlin like a life jacket.

Lorenzo's comment caused Merlin to shoot him a narrow glare, with Gwen looking up, doing the same.

"You guys have a nice evening," Merlin said with an uneasy smile. He didn't exactly relish awkward situations. "We need to get going."

"Going? Going where? I wanna stay with Guinevere," Arthur said, planting his feet so that he couldn't be budged.

Merlin tried to tug, grunting as he stopped, realizing that it was futile. "No, we're not staying with Gwen. We've gotta go, and so does she. So just come on, and stop talking!"

"Here, I'll help you get him to the car. He looks heavy," Lorenzo offered instead. He quickly moved to the other side of Arthur, raising his hand to take hold of his arm, only have Arthur start flailing his own like a mad man.

"Get the hell off of me!" Arthur yelled hoarsely, causing Lorenzo to jump back with open arms, Gwen too taking a generous step backward.

"Whoa pal, I was just trying to help," Lorenzo said, looking at Arthur confused.

"Well I don't need any of your stinkin' help!" Arthur blurted.

Merlin looked at Arthur, always in awe of the selective memory he exhibited whilst inebriated. He really needed to get him away from Gwen before he said something suggestive in front of Lorenzo. "Well, you guys have a nice evening. See ya." Merlin said hastily, turning around for good this time, as Arthur finally decided to cooperate, and the two were able to cross the street successfully.

"Merlin, you should've let me have a go at that greasy bastard! I would've given him the beating of his life, teach him to touch my woman!" Arthur yelled, as Merlin opened his back passenger door with great difficulty.

"You're wasted 'cause she's _not your_ woman," Merlin grumbled, dropping Arthur into the back seat, where he fell down with a thud.

Merlin slammed the door, running around the front end of his car, only to find Gwen running across the street, waving her arms frantically.

"Wait! Merlin! Let me come with you!" Gwen reached the car, slightly out of breath.

"Where's your new boyfriend?" Merlin asked, genuinely curious for the answer.

Gwen narrowed her eyes at the question, walking to the passenger door, resting her hand on the handle. "He's going home, after Arthur's little outburst he thought it best if I come alone." There was a dense and uncomfortable silence as Gwen and Merlin looked directly at one another, separated by the hood of Merlin's car.

Gwen sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair. "Look, I know you hate me, okay; I understand. I'd hate me too. But _please_, I just want to make sure Arthur's okay, that's all I want."

Merlin looked at Gwen, realizing as a car drove by, flashing their lights on her, that she was actually on the verge of tears. He couldn't say no after that, and after all, maybe Arthur would be less rambunctious with her around. "Alright, get in."

Gwen nodded, opening the passenger door, sitting in the front seat, where she was greeted boisterously by Arthur who was sprawled in the back seat. Her arrival excited him so much, that he continued to ramble until Merlin finally entered the car, turning around sharply to the gurgling Arthur, who was quickly wearing out his last nerve.

"You! Shut up! Stop talking, and making a bigger fool outta yourself! Have a shred of shame!" Merlin turned back around, putting his car into gear, as Gwen watched Arthur through the rear view mirror with raised brow.

"Listen; I don't hate you Gwen." Merlin said, pulling out of his parking spot. "I just don't like what you're doing to my friend. Excuse me if it's none of my business; but I think—know that you're making a big mistake. This entire situation; it just aint right."

Gwen bowed her head slightly, knowing that she deserved every reprimanding word.

"Arthur loves you—"

"Merlin, should we be talking about this right now? He's in the back seat!" Gwen whispered.

Merlin waved his hand dismissively as he looked in his mirror at Arthur, whose head was rolling forward than jerking back up in an attempt to stay awake.

"Gwen, this isn't my first time at the rodeo."

"…Huh?"

"It's not the first time I've had to deal with a sloshed Arthur. This used to happen _all_ the time, trust me; he'll either be asleep in the next two minutes and/or he won't remember a word we've said."

"Uhh…how much did he have to drink, exactly?"

"Exactly? I'm not sure, I wasn't there. I didn't even know he was goin' out for liquor and if I did, I would've stopped him. I should've known he'd do something stupid like this." Merlin shook his head, as he continued to admonish himself. "This mess is partly my fault, I should've been there for him; I'm really the only friend he's got."

"But it's mostly my fault," Gwen admitted, met by only silence. "You told Arthur 'bout what happened with me and Lorenzo…didn't you?"

"I did; earlier today." Merlin said bluntly, keeping his eyes on the road.

"What'd he say?" Gwen asked after a while, turning to look at Merlin who kept his eyes glued on the road.

"He felt betrayed. And hopeless too, because in his mind you'd finally given up on him and it was 'game over'. I guess it sort of is." In his peripheral vision, Merlin could see Gwen wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. He was tempted to shut his mouth, and just continue the car ride in awkward silence, but he decided that these were the tough words Gwen needed to hear; the truth. Merlin continued with a shrug. "So when he's sad, he drinks. And let me tell you; he can really knock the drinks back, and when he gets hammered, it's all or nothin'. That's what happened tonight; Arthur doesn't know how to deal with grief. Especially not like this. He's just too used to always getting what he wants."

Gwen covered her eyes, then sliding her hands down her face to rub her cheeks. "Honestly, I didn't mean for any of this to happen Merlin. This isn't what I wanted at all."

"It's not the 'better off' that you imagined, huh?" He asked empathetically.

"Not at all," Gwen said shaking her head, letting out a forced laugh to hide her sadness.

"Gwen, it takes a lot of love to give up someone because you think they'd be better off without you. But Arthur is willing to fight for you 'til the end, and don't you owe him the same?" looked into his rear view mirror, snorting at the sight. "Well look at that; the son of a gun is sleeping."

* * *

><p>"As soon as you're sober Arthur, I'm throwing you onto one of those 'treadmill' doohickeys!" Merlin grumbled, dragging Arthur's weight up his stairwell, on their way to one of Merlin's many guest rooms. Arthur's head roll into the crook of his neck, causing Merlin to smack Arthur's stubbled jaw."You! Wake up and walk! We're almost there, we only have like five stairs left, and then you can crash."<p>

"Where's Guinevere?" Arthur asked groggily, looking around the lit hallway.

"She's in the room fixing the bed for you."

"Fixing the bed for us?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "No pervert; for _you_. Now lift your feet up—there you go—we only have a few more." Merlin let out a sigh of relief as he and Arthur finally reached the top of the steps, with Gwen coming out of the guest room down the hall.

"I changed the sheets; the bed's all ready," she said taking Arthur's free arm, trying to help Merlin the best she could.

"Ahh, Gwen you're hands are _so_ warm." Arthur said with a dopey grin, closing his eyes momentarily.

Gwen only looked at Merlin who returned her gaze, as the two led Arthur to the large and now clean guest room. They hastily let go of Arthur, causing him to fall in the middle of the bed, bouncing once as he rolled onto his back.

As soon as Merlin was free of Arthur's weight, he placed his hands on his hips craning backward as his back cracked loudly. "I feel like a pack mule!"

Gwen merely shook her head as she sat at the foot of the bed, untying Arthur's shoes and throwing them to the side. She looked at Merlin, who stood there stretching. "Merlin, would you do me a blessin', and get two aspirin tablets, and a tall glass of water? Get him some food too. When he wakes up, he'll want it."

Merlin stood frozen for another moment, as his mind registering Gwen's request. "Okay, I'll be back in a jiffy!" Merlin tore out of the room, and Gwen could hear the pitter-patter of his feet against the stairs.

Alone Gwen looked at Arthur, wondering what to do next. Her hands felt his shirt which was soaked with…she wasn't sure, and she didn't exactly want to find out. She watched Arthur whose chest rose steadily, with his eyes closed. "Alright Arthur, I've never had to deal with a drunk man before. So I'm not sure if you understand me, or if you even know that I'm talking right now—"

"I hear you Gwen."

Gwen smiled sadly at Arthur's calmness and cooperation. "Okay, I need you to put your arms behind your head; I have to take your t-shirt off."

"Okay…" Arthur whispered, fading out as he did what he was told.

Gwen took hold of the hem of his moist shirt, pulling it over his head, then throwing it next to his shoes on the ground. She wondered if he would be more comfortable without his belt on, but quickly realized that taking it off would be too difficult. She doubted that he could feel it any way.

Gwen moved to the end of the bed, where the sheets were collected, taking the thin sheet and resting it over Arthur, pausing as she noticed a collected bulge in his pants pocket. She moved the sheet up to Arthur's knee, feeling the object through his pants, but she still wasn't sure what it was. Afraid that he'd roll onto his side and crush the object, or have it bore into his skin, Gwen delicately reached inside Arthur's pocket, yet he remained still. Her hot fingertips touched the cold silver chain, which wrapped around her hand as she pulled it out slowly, the heavy sapphire pendant nearly falling out of her palm, and onto Arthur's bare chest.

She held up the birthday present Arthur had given her, blinking a couple of times as she rotated it in her hand, her mouth slightly opening as she looked at Arthur then back to the necklace. "You've been…carrying it?" She whispered, and despite her best attempts, she could feel hot tears at the brim of her eye lids. She sniffled to deter the water works, gingerly placing her gift on the dresser next to the bed. Finally, she covered Arthur with the bed sheet, his arms moving to rest on top of it and lay at his side. Gwen leaned over to adjust Arthur's pillow so that he wouldn't crane his neck, and she swore that she heard Arthur take a slight whiff of her hair.

Standing back she looked at him, watching him "sleep" (she wasn't sure what he was doing anymore). He looked ghastly pale, weary and sick, all because of her actions. She had ended their relationship in such haste, and she had been so callous to him when he pleaded for her to rethink her decision. Gwen felt like the vilest creature on earth when she thought of how she had dismissed Arthur the day he was leaving for Charleston, and spoke to her in the hallway. She felt terrible after both of those occasions, and she felt even worse now. In order to cope over the past week, Gwen had been trying to convince herself that she had done the right thing. Sure; it wasn't what she had wanted but, like she had told Arthur; you can't always have what you want.

So why, looking at Arthur in such a vulnerable state did she regret everything, and wish she could take it all back? But that couldn't happen, and now Arthur probably hated her too, and most likely never wanted to talk to her ever again. Sure, he had been excited to see her tonight, and calmed down every time he heard her voice; but he wasn't in his right mind. He probably didn't even remember half of the things she had done with him. After all, he was in this state because he wanted to forget about her and Lorenzo. Oh yeah, Lorenzo. That was on Gwen's list of things which made her feel like the size of an ant. In retrospect, she wasn't even sure why she kissed him back…maybe it was because she was vulnerable too. But it wasn't the same, not like it was with Arthur. In fact, just the fleeting thought of Arthur made her retract from Lorenzo's grasp. She had really made a grand mess of things, all because she thought she was being strong for Arthur. But in reality, she was weak; weaker than he was right now.

Gwen sighed deeply, scooting up to sit next to Arthur, pushing the tendrils of hair which were on his forehead to the side. _Arthur, I'm so sorry, please forgive me. I hurt you, and I'm sorry. _Slowly Gwen felt Arthur's hand move to her thigh, his eyes remaining closed as he grinned happily.

"Guinevere, I'm glad you're back." He indistinctly mumbled something else, before clearly adding: "I'll see you in the morn'." Arthur rubbed her thigh affectionately a few times, before removing his hand to return it to his side. He rolled over with a content sigh, finally going to sleep.

* * *

><p>Gwen twirled the curled wire of the wall phone around her index finger, as she waited for her father to come to the phone. She had decided to stay the night at Merlin's house, and knew that if she didn't contact her family in some way, then they'd be gathering a search party. So here she was now, waiting for Alice to run next door and get her father, bringing him to her own house phone (the Gibsons didn't own one).<p>

Heavy breathing finally came from the other end, before Tom finally spoke. "Gwen, baby, is that you?"

"Hey Daddy, it is me."

"Are you alright Gwen? Where are you?" He asked frantically, hardly able to catch his breath.

Gwen took a deep breath, knowing that no matter how she said it, her father would have the same reaction. "I'm at…Merlin's house."

"Whose house?"

"Daddy: my boss, Arthur; he got sick. I saw Merlin struggling to get him home, and I offered to help. Arthur's not in a good place at all, and I think I should stay."

"Like hell you will!" Tom yelled, causing Gwen to flinch slightly. "Merlin, he's a white boy, aint he?"

"Yes Daddy, he's white," Gwen said with a sigh.

"And you're fixin' to stay in a white boy's house, who I don't know, for the night? Actually, you're fixin' to stay with two white boys for the night?"

"When you say it that way—"

"Lord! Gwen: do you know what white men do to sweet girls like you when you aint got no one to watch your pretty little back?"

"Daddy, don't start. It's not like that," Gwen whispered, afraid that Merlin who was on the other side of the room would hear. "They're good people; they're my friends."

"Friends?" Tom asked, shrill in disbelief. "No, you aint stayin' there if I can help it. Where's this boy live? I'll come and get you."

"No."

Tom coughed once, before clearing his throat. "No?"

"I'm not a child anymore! I can hold on my own, and if I want to spend the night with a friend, to help another, I will. I just thought it'd be nice to let you know, but obviously—"

"Young lady! You better watch that fresh mouth of yours!"

"I aint being fresh!"

"While you live in my house Guinevere Louise, you'll do as I say. And I say to tell me where this white boy lives so I can come fetch you."

Gwen looked over at Merlin who had stopped what he was doing, watching Gwen intently. She took a deep breath, holding the phone receiver firmly. "I'll see you tomorrow Daddy," Gwen whispered, nearly trembling as she said the words. Though her father wasn't there in front her, just the thought of the sheer anger he must have been containing frightened her. She never told him no. Especially not about something so major. "I can't leave Arthur this way. If you saw him, you wouldn't be askin' me to go home."

"So it's like that, huh? You're gonna choose some rich cracker boy over your own father?"

"You're not listening."

Tom changed his tactic. "Didn't the good Lord tell Moses 'thou shalt honor thy mother and _father_'?"

Oh no, he was getting the Bible verses out. "And he also said to 'love thy neighbor'," Gwen retorted. There was a silence, and in the next moment, Gwen heard the disconnect tone blaring in her ears. She looked down at the phone as if it were a foreign object, before slamming it back to the wall cradle. She turned with a hand on her hip, and a tight frown on her face.

"What'd he say?" Merlin asked cautiously, as Gwen slowly approached him.

"He hung up on me. My own Daddy hung up on me!" Gwen said the second time, with more anger than disbelief.

"Was it that bad?"

"He thinks that I'm choosing y'all over him. He just doesn't understand."

"'Cause we're white?"

Gwen rubbed her forehead. "I don't wanna talk about it right now Merlin. I'm thinking 'bout too much already."

Merlin nodded empathetically, walking to the kitchen counter which was next to his stove, holding two steaming cups of tea. "I made one for you, to calm your nerves. You do drink tea, right?"

Gwen smiled a little as she looked down at the mug, then to Merlin. "That was sweet, thank you," Gwen said taking it into her hands.

"Can that be my peace offering?"

Gwen wrapped her hands around the large ceramic mug. "Peace offering?"

"Yeah, for being a total jerk to you. It's your life, and I shouldn't judge you. I was a total jack ass."

"Well, can this be my apology?" Gwen asked with a sheepish smile. "You were only being a good friend to Arthur; he should be glad to have someone like you. But you had every right to be angry with me, I was…being a bit of a jack ass too."

Merlin smiled, sighing happily. "My feet and shoulders ache somethin' fierce. Let's go sit down on the sofa," Merlin said waving his hand, leading Gwen to his living room, wrapping a friendly arm around her shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>AN****: **I'm in awe at how many words the English language has to express drunkenness! (I actually looked them up to avoid redundancy). Alright, hope you enjoyed it…


	27. Chapter 27

_Can I just say that editing is a major pain! But it's one of those things you've gotta do…_

_I'd like to start off by saying: Welcome new readers! And thanks old ones for coming back! Thanks to a very generous tweet by FF user 'LonerSun', and everyone else spreading the word on other websites, MLMS is gaining more and more readers each week! I'm very humbled and grateful that you take the time out of your busy schedules to read. I hope you enjoy this week's; I surely enjoyed writing it! _

_Don't forget to add me to your favorites/story alert, as well as leaving a comment. Reading the comments from last week really cracked me up! _

_**P.S.:**__ There has been a recent phenomenon, where readers have been asking me my age, for one reason or another. Well, I'm the ripe old age of 16 (I started writing this about a month or two before my 16__th__ birthday). Some of you will believe it, others won't; but there's the answer nonetheless. Happy reading!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 27: Seven Days Makes One Weak<strong>

Arthur slowly rolled onto his back, even the slow and quick movement sending shockwaves into his head. He tried to open his eyes, only finding that the light pouring in from the window to his side hurt his head even more than turning. Closing his eyes in response, Arthur managed to push his sheets off of him, feeling his bare chest with sudden alarm; he never remembered talking his shirt off. But the realization wasn't too startling, for Arthur dozed off in the next moment, snoring within the minute.

"Holy Mother of God!" Arthur exclaimed hoarsely, jumping out of bed quickly as he felt a cool liquid fall onto his face. Opening his eyes despite the new light sensitivity, Arthur found Merlin standing over his bed with a glass of ice water and an amused grin. "What is your problem?" Arthur growled, wiping the remainder droplets off of his face.

"Huh," Merlin said in inspection. "So I take it you're sober now?" Merlin asked setting his glass on the bedside table, crossing his arms over his chest. This would be interesting.

Arthur spun around slowly, looking around the large room, his blue eyes becoming wide as he realized… "This isn't the Estate…"

Merlin clapped his hands together lightly. "Boy, you're as sharp as a whip!"

Arthur shot Merlin an angry glare. "Wait…"

Merlin looked down at his watch. "It's nearly half past noon," Merlin said with a shake of his head. "You've literally slept half of the day away."

Arthur's large hand rested on top of his head, then rubbing his hot forehead. "My head— it aches, and," Arthur smacked his lips together, wincing as he tasted his own breath. The cigarettes mingled with the scotch and bourbon didn't exactly create a sweet taste. Slowly…the memories began to come back, but in a thick haze. "Shit…" he muttered to himself, the mental jigsaw puzzle of memories finally creating a dim picture. "Guinevere!" Arthur finally blurted after a moment of silence.

Merlin raised an eye brow. "That's all you have to say? After everything that happened, that's _all_ you have to say?" Merlin repeated in astonishment.

"Where is she?" Arthur asked looking towards the closed door.

Merlin too looked at the door in confusion. "Uhh…last time I checked, she was down the hall, sleeping."

Arthur ran a hand through his messy hair, looking under the bed frantically, before coming up quickly. He silently brushed past Merlin, walking to the far-side wall.

"What are you doing? Are you looking for something?"

Arthur bent down to pick up his shirt which rested against the wall and atop of his shoes in a crumpled ball. He quickly smelled it, and winced at the odor. He paused, and decided to put it on nonetheless. It was when he picked up his socks, Merlin finally interjected.

"Are you leaving?"

"Hell yeah, I'm leaving," Arthur scoffed, slipping on his right shoe.

"Where do you plan on going, seen as you're just getting off of a serious drinking binge? You can't be going home, not unless the alcohol went to your brain too."

Arthur rolled his eyes, jamming his foot into his other shoe. "You're so funny," Arthur said dryly. "Who said I'm going home? I'm just getting outta here."

"Why, 'cause of Gwen?"

"Your perception really amazes me," Arthur muttered. "I'm not staying here if Guinevere is too. It's either her or me." Arthur informed his friend, standing up straight. "So who will it be?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, before realizing that Arthur was being serious. "Arthur, I can't just kick her out, and I won't do that to you either. You're just not thinking—"

"There's nothing to think 'bout, _Merlin_." Arthur looked around the room for his other belonging, before realizing that Gwen's sapphire necklace was atop of the dresser which he was standing next to. He paused, before taking the jewelry, and stuffing it into his pocket. "I don't want to see her, I don't want to talk to her, I don't want to hear her—I can't be around her and pretend that everything's peachy keen."

"No one's asking you to pretend."

"And even if I wasn't so mad at her, I don't think I could face her. I don't think I remember everything that happened last night, but I remember enough. So if you'd just excuse me—"

Merlin couldn't resist a snort. "You're right: you oughta be ashamed, because you really made a fool out of yourself last night." Merlin began to list on his fingers. "You couldn't speak or walk straight, you were rude, smelly and—I don't even know how to describe the rest!"

"Well it's her fault," Arthur scoffed in return, taking a step towards the door, before Merlin blocked him.

"No, no, no. You're not gonna do that; you're not gonna blame her for something _you_ went out and did. Gwen didn't pick up that liquor bottle and put it to your lips. And she sure as hell didn't throw two bimbos on top of you neither!"

Arthur rubbed his head; groaning at the pain Merlin's elevated voice created. "Please, quit yelling! My head feels like the inside of a drum," Arthur requested groggily, clenching his eyes shut as he walked out of the sun light. "It's my life, and I'll do whatever the hell I want with it. And right now, I wanna slip on outta this house, and avoid seeing Guinevere."

Merlin stepped in front of Arthur, slamming his hands against his chest. "You're obviously suffering from short term memory loss, so let me jog it a little for you."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Don't patronize me. If you're about to defend her, go plead her case to someone who cares, 'cause I don't." Despite Arthur's stern words, he made no further movements to exit.

"Before you run on out of here, and get drunk again, maybe I should remind you of a few things. Lorenzo and Gwen kissed less than a week after y'all broke up. Is that terrible; yes. She wasn't totally honest about him, and do you have a right to be upset? You bet! But Arthur, I spoke with Gwen last night, and there's so much more to that story than you know."

Arthur rolled his eyes, feigning a yawn. "Thanks for reaching in, and twisting that knife around a little more. Are you through now?"

"No! I'm_ not _through! Don't you _want_ Gwen back?"

"I thought I did…but I've come to realize that I don't; not anymore. It was lots of fun, we had some good times, but don't they say 'all good things must come to an end'? I always knew this would happen, and I've accepted it. You should too." Arthur shielded his eyes momentarily from the sun, otherwise maintaining eye contact with Merlin the entire time.

"That is probably the biggest load of bull I've heard in my entire life! You are a real are piece of work!"

"Oh, and like Gwen's not! I can't believe you're defending her when she's such a liar! From the very beginning, she's been lying about Lorenzo through her teeth. So if she wants him so bad, she can go and have him!"

"You know Arthur, with the way you're acting, it's no great wonder that she'd_ want _to be with him. You aren't exactly being a tough act to follow!"

Arthur's eyes narrowed, as he took a step towards Merlin, his jaw clenched so hard that it was nearly painful. "Get it through your thick scull that I don't want her _anymore_. I can't trust her, and it's clear that she doesn't give a fig about me. So just drop it already."

"Okay," Merlin ran a hand over his mouth, thinking over his next words carefully. "Well tell me this then: if she doesn't care about you so much, then why did she practically beg me to let her take care of you? You don't sacrifice for people you don't care about.

"Apparently you two are best buds now, so why don't you go and ask her for yourself?"

Merlin ignored the snide remark. "By time we got home, I was so fed up, that I was ready to just throw you in bed and leave you. But Gwen would have absolutely none of it. It was she who sat here and basically tucked you in to bed. Can you believe that? Now who else would've done that? She took off your shoes, made sure you were comfortable; she cared about _you_. You don't just act that way with everyone, and you know it."

"It's her guilt, she oughta have plenty of it," Arthur said crossing his arms over his chest before shrugging nonchalantly.

Merlin threw up his arms, rolling his eyes.

"If she really loved me she wouldn't have just thrown me away like trash, then gone for Lorenzo."

"Gwen is a human being! Why is it that you can go out, make all the mistakes that you want to and be pardoned, but she can't? She's confused Arthur, ad you of all people should be able to relate to that. She was up all night, crying her eyes out and blaming herself for your condition, so excuse me if I don't find her to be the antichrist as you now do." Merlin pointed towards the door. "So if you want to leave, go on ahead. I'm not stopping you anymore, you're right; it is your life."

Arthur looked at the door, then back to Merlin.

"Remember all of that talk, where you told me that you were going to prove to Gwen that you were really the man she fell in love with?"

Arthur reluctantly nodded.

"Well you sneaking out like a coward isn't going to do that. And treating her like the dirt in your shoes surely won't either."

Arthur's face softened, as he thought for a moment. "Did she really do all of that stuff like you said? I mean, not that it'd really matter or anything…"

Merlin nodded with a small smile, noticing the sudden ease in Arthur's tone. "She even wanted to stay so badly that she defied her father, telling him that she wasn't coming home. She did that for you Arthur, and you know how much she cherishes her family. She wants to be here."

Arthur looked at his feet, stroking his chin in silence.

"I'll…stay."

"Good!" Merlin said clapping his hands together

Arthur pointed directly at his giddy friend. "But don't get it twisted; I'm not staying because I want Guinevere. It's 'cause I don't want my dad to kick my ass just yet."

Merlin smiled, "I called him last night, and he thinks you're just spending the night."

Arthur nodded, before kicking off his shoes. "I think I need a shower," he admitted, his lip curling slightly. Arthur walked to the attached bath room, before turning around to Merlin, pointing at him yet again. "Whatever schemes are rolling 'round in that little head of yours; drop 'em."

Merlin held up his hands. "Schemes? Me?" He asked with a wry grin.

"Yeah…" Arthur slowly narrowed his eyes, analyzing Merlin's tighter grin. "I'm watching you."

* * *

><p>Gwen turned around with a small smile as she heard Merlin's light footsteps behind her, entering the kitchen.<p>

"…Why does it smell like breakfast?" Merlin asked, audibly sniffing the air.

Gwen lightly laughed, reaching over to turn off the stove. "Maybe because it is? Well…brunch, anyways. I figured that it was only right for me to cook for you and Arthur. Seen as your maids don't come on the week end, it's the least I could do for y'all."

"You just can't not work, can you?" Merlin asked, standing next to Gwen to look over her shoulder.

"What's the point of doin' nothin'?"

"Good point…" Merlin's voice trailed off, as he rubbed his hands together in content and excitement. "It all looks so good! How many people did you cook for exactly? There's a lot."

Gwen looked at the food. "Just us. But I figured we would all be hungry because it's so late."

Merlin looked at the clock behind Gwen. "When did you plan on going home? There's no rush, you're welcome to stay as long as you want—or need."

Gwen sighed, walking to the right side of the kitchen where the oven was. She put on a pair of heat mitts, opening the oven to reveal golden brown biscuits. "I'm not sure," she admitted, taking out the tray, and putting it on the back of the stove. "I'm sure Daddy and Elliot are angry, I don't even know what to expect. I've never done anything like this…. maybe I should just stay here forever," Gwen said with a light laugh. "But I don't think Arthur would like that," Gwen said a little sadly.

"Why would you say that?" Merlin asked, reaching for one of the largest biscuits, tossing it between each hand once he felt its heat.

"I guess sound in this house carries…but I heard you and Arthur. I wasn't asleep."

Merlin's shoulders slumped. "How much did you hear?"

Gwen paused, before shrugging as if it were nothing. "Enough; all that I wanted to, anyway. But hanks for sticking up for me, I didn't deserve it."

"Like I said; we all make mistakes. He's really not as mad as he seems," Merlin tried assure her.

Gwen opened a few cupboards before she found a bowl. "You don't have to sugar coat things for me, Merlin. I think I know Arthur well enough by now to know that he's angry. And it's justified…mostly."

"He doesn't know the whole story," Merlin reminded her, taking a bite out of his biscuit.

"I don't think it'll matter. It took him so long to trust me, and I've thrown it all away."

"You two just need to talk."

"He doesn't want to, and I'm not so sure I have anything to say."

"Well Arthur's stupid, and I'm sure you have lots to say."

Gwen gave Merlin a small smile, before moving to the dining room table right outside of the kitchen. "Merlin, I appreciate your efforts, really I do."

"But…"

"There's nothing either of us can do. I made my choices and Arthur has made his. I don't want to make things more complicated than they already are. I'm the one who ended things, so it's not fair for me to keep toying with him; it's cruel."

Merlin was about to offer a rebuttal when Arthur's heavy footsteps made their way towards the dining room, causing he and Gwen to freeze until Arthur came into full view.

Arthur's hair was still wet from his shower, slicked back to completely reveal his face. His skin was slightly blanched, his eyes a little off from their usual tint, and light purple bags underneath his eyes. Despite those features, Gwen and Merlin had expected him to look a lot worse.

"You look…good," Merlin finally said, breaking the ice. He noted that as soon as he spoke, Gwen and Arthur looked away from each other.

"No I don't," Arthur said bluntly. "But I feel better," Arthur looked at Gwen the entire time. "What's this?" He asked motioning towards the table of food.

"I made breakfast—brunch," Gwen explained. "There's more in the kitchen, let me go get it."

Arthur watched Gwen quickly retreat to the kitchen, his gaze torn from his frame as Merlin snapped his fingers for his attention.

"You: behave. If you have nothing kind to say, don't say it all," Merlin leaned over towards Arthur, issuing his advice in a whisper.

"Thanks, Dad."

The two straightened, moving away from each other as Gwen walked back into the room with the rest of the food from the kitchen. All three sat down at the long rectangular table; with Merlin at the head, and Arthur and Gwen flanking him across from one another.

Merlin cleared his throat before saying: "I'll offer the blessing." Merlin paused, allowing his two friends time to bow their heads and close their eyes as he did the same. "Lord, we come to You in thanksgiving for this good food, and for all of Your abundant blessings which are without number. Father, we are mightily grateful that you brought Arthur home safely," Merlin opened one eye to see if the last bit evoked any reaction, but he found both Gwen and Arthur with bowed heads. He continued. "Please help us Lord to have forgiving and joyful hearts; forgiving others as You have forgiven us. Please bless us with joyful spirits, which delight in one another….amen." Merlin resisted a smirk as he opened his eyes and raised his head, only to find Arthur scowling at him. One day, his face would remain stuck in that position.

"That was a really beautiful prayer," Gwen said, passing Merlin the biscuits. "Right from the heart."

"Ahh, thanks. I like to free style it every now and then." Merlin took a biscuit from the bowl, then handing it to Arthur who nearly snatched it.

The food went around the table, and for a couple of minutes the only sound which filled the great dining room was the clinking of metal against fine china, and the occasional slurp or two from someone's coffee mug. Arthur and Gwen kept their gazes glued on their plates, and Merlin felt that he was already pushing the envelope with his suggestive prayer, so he too stayed quiet. There was nothing which needed to be said.

"Merlin…could you take me home maybe after we finish eating?" Gwen asked looking up at her friend.

Merlin frowned, resting his fork at the side of his plate. "What about your Dad?"

Arthur too stopped eating, chewing his remaining food as he watched Gwen.

"I've got to face him eventually. I have to reap the consequences."

"Okay, I'll take you over there whenever you want."

Arthur drank his straight black coffee loudly, talking from behind his mug. "You cut your hair."

Gwen's eyebrows came together in confusion at the random statement. Thoughtlessly, her fingers felt the tip of her brown curly hair which now fell no more than an inch below her shoulder blades. "Uhh…yes I did."

"Why?" Arthur asked with little emotion or emphasis. His mouth was in a straight and hard line, and he looked intently at Gwen in the eye.

"I'm moving all day, and it was just so long. It got in the way of work especially."

Arthur nodded, taking a bite of bacon. "Well, I like it."

Gwen tilted her head to the side. "Thanks—"

"Lorenzo; does he like it too?"

Merlin's hand flew to his face, covering his eyes and resulting in a loud smack. He shook his head, as he heard Gwen's fork fall off of her plate and to the table.

"I'm not sure."

Arthur scooted away from the table slightly, his arms folding over his chest. "Really? You two seem so…chummy. I figured that he would've told you if he liked it. Or are y'all too busy doing other things?"

Merlin looked through his fingers, a little afraid to do even that.

"Well, you are the master detective here, Arthur. So why don't you tell me?" Gwen asked, she too pushing away from the table.

"Oh, that's really rich!" Arthur laughed, throwing his head back. He leaned backward in his chair, causing it to teeter on its two hind legs. "Who knew you could be so snippy, Guinevere?"

Merlin inaudibly groaned from the end of the table, finally looking at the increasingly heated interaction.

"Who knew you could be so immature?"

"I'm the immature one here? I didn't know maturity came with ramming your tongue down your ex's throat! 'Cause if that's what it means, I'd rather be immature!"

Gwen blinked rapidly, before pushing away from the table with all of her might, and walking around the table, before stopping next to Arthur. She looked at him one last time before nearly running out of the room.

Merlin stood there wide eyed, looking to his left where Arthur sat, looking down at his hands. "Boy, you really know how to woo a gal, don't you?"

"Merlin, do me a favor: shut the hell up," Arthur growled, rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes.

"You weren't right for saying that Arthur, and you know it. You're making an already bad situation worse."

Arthur put his chair on all fours, slurping loudly at his black and bitter coffee. "No, Gwen did that by betraying me."

"You're probably the biggest dollop head on the face of the earth!"

"Speaking of maturity…"

Merlin scoffed, picking up his plate and mug, walking to the kitchen. "I swear to God, if you just talked to her, all of this would be over. You wouldn't have to drink yourself silly anymore, and Gwen could quit being miserable. But she feels too guilty, and you're too hard headed to even talk! Honestly; do I have to do _everything_?" Merlin exclaimed, nearly throwing his empty dishes into the sink.

Arthur looked out the kitchen window to find Guinevere rushing down the front steps, steadily making her way down the drive. Merlin stood next to him, too watching her.

"Is she gonna walk home? She has her stuff with her."

"She's probably going to the bus-stop…"

"Do you know how far away that is from here! You can't let her walk alone like that. For one thing, she'll freeze to death—"

"It aint that cold. The sun always shines in the South," Arthur pretended to be disinterested in Gwen, setting his mug in the sink, and turning on the tap.

"My God," Merlin said in disgust, walking to the side door just outside of the kitchen. "Go and fetch her."

"Why don't you do it? You're the one who's so worried 'bout her."

"I don't care how angry you are at her, and whether or not that anger is justified—"

"It is."

"—But you owe Gwen an ounce of respect and consideration. No one forced her to come here to take care of you. But if you won't do it for her, do it for me, because I didn't have to come save you either. Just tell her that I'll take her home."

Arthur's shoulders slumped, as he craned his neck to look out further past the open door, a cool breeze rolling into the house, and brushing against his face. "Fine," Arthur relented, resisting the urge to smack Merlin's content grin off of his pale and smug face. Arthur pushed past Merlin, stepping over the threshold of the side door in the next moment. Gwen's was steadily moving further into the distance, her hair moving up and down as she speedily walked, clutching her purse to her side to limit its movements "Hey, Gwen!" Arthur called out, waving his hands as he jogged nearer to her.

Gwen turned around, stopping only long enough to realize that it was Arthur calling after her, before moving at a brisker pace.

"Damn it, Guinevere," Arthur grumbled to himself, he too quickening. "I know you can hear me Guinevere, and I'm much faster than you!" Arthur figured that she'd turn around and offer a witty rebuttal, but she kept on power walking. Finally he caught stride with her, his chest moving rapidly, as he looked at Gwen who was obviously angry.

"What do you want Arthur?" She asked, her gaze straight ahead and away from him. "I have nothing to say to you."

"Well we're finally on the same page then," Arthur scoffed, maintaining pace with Gwen.

"I'm glad."

Arthur sighed, realizing that this approach wouldn't make Gwen walk in the opposite direction. "Where do you think you're going any way, Guinevere? To the bus stop?" Arthur asked pointing straight ahead. "Because that's a good six miles away from here."

"I got two good legs."

Arthur sped up a couple of steps, moving in front of Gwen, causing her to halt suddenly, nearly losing her balance atop the loose gravel. "You don't have to prove any point to me."

"Not everything's about you, ya know."

"Listen Gwen, we can fight until we're black and blue, but that's not why I'm here. Merlin doesn't want you out there by your lonesome; it aint safe. He said that he'd drive you home. And I'll leave you alone, if that's why you're leaving."

Gwen looked behind her, realizing that even Merlin's gate seemed to be a mile away, as she pushed the strap of her purse further over her shoulder, the idea of walking to the bus stop becoming less attractive. "_Merlin's _worried about me?"

"Yeah?" Arthur replied, not sure if that was the right answer. "Just come back inside Guinevere. Don't compromise your safety for nothin'," Arthur said pushing a curl out of her face. Immediately he realized what he was doing, and dropped his hand, shoving it into his pocket. "Uhh…sorry, old habits die hard," he muttered, mentally reprimanding his disobedient hand.

Gwen made an about-face without speaking, withArthur walked alongside of her, his arms moving freely at his side.

"For someone who drank himself to sleep last night, you look fine today," Gwen noted evenly.

"Practice makes perfect?"

Gwen looked back up at him, before turning around again. "Maybe it's high time to quit practicing."

They continued to walk in silence, before making their way up the stone steps to Merlin's front door.

"Why'd you come last night, Guinevere?"

"Is that sincerity I hear?"

"I'm not a total ass one hundred percent of the time."

Gwen resisted showing a smile. She noticed Arthur watching her intently, so she decided to indulge him in an answer. "I didn't want to leave poor Merlin dealing with you all by yourself. You weren't exactly being a wall flower. And I figured it was the right thing to do. You would've done the same for me…I think."

Arthur inhaled sharply despite himself. He reached the last step, opening the door for Gwen "Go ahead," he offered quietly, closing the door behind him

"Tell Merlin I'll be upstairs," she said softly.

Arthur stood near the door, watching Gwen quickly jog up the steps. "Wait, Guinevere!" He said quickly, holding out his hand in a 'halt' motion.

Gwen immediately stopped, turning around quickly to look at Arthur who neared the steps. "…Yes."

"I—I'm…" Arthur sighed, ruffling his hair. "Never mind, forget about it."

* * *

><p>"Good God…" Gwen pulled down her right cheek slightly, looking at the light purple bags which were forming under her eyes. She turned her head slightly, to get a better view in the large bathroom mirror, letting out another groan. "I look like a hot mess," she chided herself. She looked to her left wrist here she had a hair tie, pulling it off. "You've gotta take better care of yourself, girl." Gwen threw up her shortened curls into a ponytail, sighing for the umpteenth time as she looked at her tired reflection in the illuminated mirror. All of this drama and running around was too much for her to handle. She was used to things not exactly being slow, but at least peaceful. It seemed that her life had transformed into a radio soap opera over the past few months, and it was beginning to take a physical toll.<p>

Gwen pushed the handle of the sink faucet all the way to the right, making the water as cold as possible, splashing a couple of handfuls onto her face. She took the small hand towel off of the nearby holder, dabbing her face as she walked back into the guest room whicj she had inhabited last night. Once her face was dry, she threw the soft towel to the bed. When her vision was finally clear, she jumped backward and let out a startled yelp.

Arthur stood from his sitting position on the bed, just as surprised at Gwen's sudden burst. "What? What is it?" He asked looking around the room quickly.

"Tarnation!" Gwen gasped, a hand flying over her mouth, as she momentarily closed her eyes in fright. "What on earth _are_ you doing in here!" She asked, her hand moving from her mouth, and resting over her heart. "You nearly gave me a heart attack; coming in here unannounced!"

"If I announced myself, you wouldn't have let me in."

Gwen dropped her hand to her hip; this was really getting old."What do you want_ now_, Arthur? You got me back inside, and you said you'd leave me alone."

"I know I did, but I can't."

Gwen raised a brow. "Can't or won't?"

"Both." Arthur ran a hand through his hair, nervously. "Look, we _really_ need to talk Guinevere. Now's a good a time as any."

Gwen sighed, picking up the towel which lay at the edge of the bed, next to Arthur. "We did that already, remember? You talked _at _me at the breakfast table; that was lots of fun. And I'm pretty the amount of time we spent talking outside was more than we have in the past week. So I think we've done our fair share of 'talking' today." Gwen walked back to the large bathroom, hanging the towel back up, watching Arthur through the mirror enter as well. She didn't bother to face him, able to see each of his movements and expressions through the spotless reflection.

"I deserve that; the sarcasm. But Guinevere—" Arthur firmly held onto her shoulders, turning her so she looked up at him. "Don't you think it's time we buried the hatchet? Or at least got things out into the open? Because I don't know about you, but all of this tension—feeling like you hate me—it's killing me." Arthur's gaze didn't waver once; he maintained intense and thoughtful eye contact the entire time.

"You know that I don't hate you Arthur."

"Well we can talk then."

"Whenever we talk, it leads to one of us getting hurt or in each other's arms. I think we need space."

Arthur dropped his hands from Gwen's shoulders quickly, holding them up to her. "See? No touching. And space is part of the reason we're like this. I promise to be calm and…respectful if you promise to at least listen, and maybe even do some of the talking."

Gwen slightly sighed, running a hand through her curly pony tail, looking at Arthur skeptically. "I don't know Arthur…aren't you still a little drunk? Maybe this is impaired judgment speaking."

"I'm not drunk Guinevere. I know what I'm saying," Arthur muttered.

Gwen looked at him skeptically, throwing up her hands. "If I feel like this is going in the wrong direction, I'm ending it, and you're gonna let me."

"Okay, I promise." Arthur paused a moment before walking back into the bed room. He motioned for Gwen to sit on the edge of the large bed, as he pulled up a chair which rested against the wall. They sat in a brief period of awkward silence, neither knowing what to say until Gwen finally spoke.

"So out in the open?" She asked, crossing her legs, and clasping her hands.

"Out in the open," Arthur repeated.

"Alright, I'll start. How often do you drink?"

Arthur flinched. At least he never had to worry about her beating around the proverbial bush. "Drink or get drunk?"

"Both," Gwen said unflinchingly. "Is it one in the same?"

"No…I can drink like any other normal man. You've seen me drink casually; at parties, at dinner, together. I don't get drunk _too_ often—"

"Not too often? 'Cause Merlin said he used to have to rescue you all the time."

"That was when I first started college. My…partying days. But you know all about that."

"Well, why'd you get drunk last night then? I want a straight answer."

"Who said that you get to ask all of the questions?"

No reply came.

Arthur sighed, licking his lips. "Well, here goes nothing: Merlin told me that you and Lorenzo were together. I didn't believe him at first, but then he told me all that he saw, and I thought on your history with him, and it all made sense. And it hurt like hell." Arthur paused as he saw Gwen's shoulders slump, and inhale quickly. "So I went out and did what I do whenever I feel really low down. I drink. Now, I'm no drunkard, but I aint no Baptist either; I like to drink, and I can usually do it in moderation. When I want to forget something, liquor has always been my friend." Arthur paused yet again, watching Gwen move around uncomfortably. "Okay, so now that's all out of the way. Explain you and Lorenzo. I was honest, now it's your turn."

"It was just a kiss."

"That's not a good enough answer, Guinevere. Everything starts with 'just a kiss'; it did with us…sort of."

"I meant that, nothing happened after that. There was a kiss, and that was the period, not a comma."

"I don't believe that; you two were together last night."

"As friends. We were just…hanging out. I know we shouldn't, not with all of our history, but I don't have anyone else."

"You just said you two had kissed. You can't just kiss a guy, and then continue to be friends with him; unless he's one of them homosexuals or somethin'…"

Gwen resisted laughing, afraid it'd ruin the tone of the conversation. So far, everything had been relatively smooth sailing. "He's not a homosexual, Arthur.."

"Then how come, according to you, he isn't he after you?"

"I didn't say that…"

"So you admit it; there's something there."

"Arthur, listen to me. Lorenzo and I kissed in a moment of weakness. We were dancing, and talking, and laughing, and he kissed me. I'm not gonna lie and say that I did anything to stop it."

Arthur reclined slightly, clenching his jaw.

"But…there was something…wrong. He…" Gwen picked up one of her curls, looking down at it as she spoke. "He touched my hair, and it reminded me of you," she whispered. She looked back up at him, with a nostalgic smile. "Out in the open right?"

Arthur nodded quickly.

"The moment he touched my hair, I thought of you, and how you were always so fascinated with it. The way you'd wrap your fingers around my curls, marvel at how it gets darker in the winter, or how many times you've told me how much you love my lavender shampoo."

Arthur couldn't help but smile too, unaware that he actually did those things so much.

"So there you go Arthur. It meant nothing, absolutely nothing. And though we weren't together when it happened, I'd still take it back in a heartbeat, because I know it hurt you. I was careless and selfish, and I don't know what I was thinking! You're angry, and I understand. I think I wouldn't wanna look at me either. And now, you're out getting drunk because you're so upset, and while that's not really all my fault, it partly is. And this is a long way of saying I'm sorry. Really I am. And if this is too little too late—"

"You're rambling."

Gwen closed her mouth quickly. "I know…"

"You only ramble when you're nervous."

"I don't do this sort of thing often," Gwen said looking into her lap

"So…" Arthur said reclining in his seat. "That was an apology?"

"It was meant to be."

"Well, I guess I accept," Arthur said with another shrug. Arthur looked down at his nails for a moment, asking his next question with as much ease as he could muster. "So, you gave Lorenzo a test drive, but do you wanna trade him in?"

Gwen tilted her head as she thought on the analogy. "I'm not quite sure I understand…"

"You and him…"

"I'm pretty sure that after last night he won't even want to talk to me." Gwen felt her pony tail with one hand, rubbing her eyes with the other. "No matter what you think of him, Lorenzo's not stupid. He _has_ to know that there's—was something between us," Gwen said pointing at Arthur.

Arthur leaned forward, resting his elbows upright on his thighs. "What do you mean?"

"Last night, as Merlin was trying to carry you back to his car, you ran into Lorenzo and me."

Arthur nodded.

"Well, you said some pretty suggestive stuff Arthur. You weren't in your right mind and all, and you slipped up and called me 'babe' and 'baby'—"

"No I didn't…." Arthur said in disbelief.

"You certainly did. And you cussed and flailed around when Lorenzo tried to help you. It doesn't take a genius to add two and two together. I'm sure he has by now."

"So…what are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure; I really don't even want to think about it. I think I'll just leave it alone, and if he asks me, I'll tell him the truth."

"But you don't_ have_ to tell him. You can tell him that I was just drunk, and I didn't know what I was saying. Tell him that I would've said that to any girl, I do have a reputation you know." Arthur reminded her. "We're not together anymore, so there's no need to create problems in the future for something that's done."

"I'm not going to lie to him."

"But what good will telling him do? He may go running his mouth. Do you realize how many people knew about us? Too many." Arthur listed on his fingers. "First, there was Merlin, but that's not a big deal. Then Elliot—I don't think we can forget that one. Then there's Stella, but she wouldn't tell a soul," Arthur stuck out his pinky to list a fourth person, but his mind drew a blank. He looked down at his three fingers. "Well…it's only three people, but I don't think we need a fourth."

"He won't tell anyone Arthur."

"I'd rather not take the chance."

"Alright…I'll think about it," Gwen conceded.

Arthur waited for Gwen to say something else, and when she didn't after a while, he clapped his hands together. "Okay, well I'm glad that's done," he said standing. "Thanks Gwen—"

Gwen shot up out of the bed, holding her hand up quickly. "Wait! There's something else I want to ask."

"Okay…."

"My necklace, I found it last night," Gwen admitted, looking Arthur in the eye. Her eyes fell to his right pocket, where she could see a bulge, and she knew it was there. "I wasn't snooping or anything…I just found it. Do you always keep it with you?"

Arthur too looked down at his pocket, wishing that the ground would just open up and consume him in that very moment. To say that he was embarrassed was a gross understatement. "I'm such a sucker…" he groaned.

"I thought you would've gotten rid of it."

"That's like throwing out memories. And it's yours, I can't do that. I figured that—I know I sound crazy—one day you might want it back, or something like that," he rushed out quickly.

"I—"

"I have one last question too. Something I should've asked in the beginning: why'd you do it, Gwen?" Arthur finally asked looking her directly in her soft brown eyes. His voice wasn't soft nor was it angry, but stern. "I mean, you're telling me all these things: that you're sorry, that Lorenzo doesn't mean anything to you, that you're sorry you hurt me. Okay, if all of that is true, then why'd you do it? Why did you break up with me? Not to sound needy or anything, but was it something I did to change your mind? Because to me, it just came out of nowhere, and that hurt the most. You didn't give me any warning at all, just bam!"

Gwen subconsciously took a step back, a reaction to Arthur's sudden burst of emotion "I was feeling overwhelmed."

"Well, I've been overwhelmed since the day I met you."

"Everything was just piling up: your jealousy, my dishonesty, our society on a whole. In that argument, I convinced myself that letting you go was only fair. I didn't think about all of this," Gwen lifted up her hands, letting them fall back down in the next instant. "I know it's a sorry explanation, but it's the only one I have."

Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to understand. "But I've always fought for you Guinevere. I've always put you first. I always showed you that I loved you."

Gwen looked away. "I know, you're right. You've been nothing but good to me Arthur."

"But it wasn't enough."

"No, it was. When I was with you, I was happy, and I was free. I always knew that I could be myself around you, and you wouldn't look at me any differently. _We _were happy."

Arthur quit pacing, looking at Gwen, his chest moving rapidly. "We were happy…" He said to himself. "But Guinevere, some of those things you said to me, were spot on. It's_ true_ that I can't give you the same things that a colored man can; the things you deserve. I'd do anything for you, but that doesn't change the fact that I just _can't_ be your ideal man." Arthur took a small step closer to Gwen, not wanting to alarm her too quickly.

"Arthur you're not perfect, and neither am I. So what you can be a little jealous sometimes? So can I. I saw the way you were changing, and I loved you even more or it—"

"This has nothing to do with personality traits, Gwen. I can help that, it's the things that I can't help which are the biggest. Like the fact that I'm white and you're colored, I'm rich and you're poor. As if the class difference wasn't enough, our cultures and upbringings are on the opposite ends of the spectrum. We're a couple straight out of a Shakespearean tragedy or something. So no matter how much I try Guinevere, I can't change that for you. If I could, I'd make everyone see in you what I do, but we live in a fallen world. We have to live in different neighborhoods, drink from separate fountains, go to different schools, walk on different—"

"I know Arthur."

"So if we can't even sit in the same part of our favorite restaurant, how can we have anything concrete? We can't be secret forever. And I'm sick of hiding you away like you're a bad thing. I don't want that for you. A colored man would be able to give you everything I can't. I don't want you to ever feel like you're sacrificing your happiness to be with me."

This time, it was Gwen who took the step towards Arthur, nearly closing the gap between them. "That's the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me," she admitted quietly.

"It's true," Arthur said looking down at her lips, before reminding himself where her eyes were. "Things just aren't fair Guinevere, It's like…you're sort of in my grasp, but then again I know I can never fully have you like normal couples can."

"I'd rather be happy with you in secret, than miserable with someone else in public."

"Guinevere," Arthur said making his tone softer, "we can't carry on like that forever. I don't know about you, but," Arthur paused, taking one of Gwen's hands, and covering it with his own. "I don't always want you to be my love and my secret. I want you to be _the _Mrs. Pendragon, I want the big family and white picket fence with the well trained dog, and anything else you want!" Arthur laughed when he saw Gwen smile. "How does that sound to you?"

"It sounds perfect," Gwen admitted as she felt Arthur's arms wrap securely around her waist, pulling her against his chest. "But we can't Arthur, by the law we _can't_."

Arthur shook his head. "The law can go to hell."

"Arthur…"

"So what, we can't do it here? This town—state, it can go to hell too! The real question is…how far would you be willing to go with me?"

"How far am I willing to go with you?" She repeated to herself.

"I swear, I'm sober, I'm sober as a judge." Arthur said quickly, reassuring her. "But what if—" Arthur's head turned quickly to the left, where the door of the guest room swung open with full force, revealing an out of breath Merlin. It took all of Arthur's strength not to ball his fists, and shake them angrily heavenward. Merlin literally had the worst timing of any one he ever knew, and it was consistent too.

Merlin remained silent, his eyes widening as he stared at Arthur and Gwen, who quickly disentangled themselves, each clearing their throats. Merlin shook his head quickly to collect his thoughts. "Uhh, sorry 'bout that, I can just go—"

"Merlin, you're in here now, what is it?" Arthur asked angrily.

"Right. Yeah, well, bad news: Stella's waiting for you on the phone, Arthur. And she sounds mad…" Merlin dragged out his last word for emphasis. "She won't tell me anything, but she said that if your 'skinny behind aint on the phone in under a minute' then you're gonna regret the day you were born."

Arthur looked at Gwen and Merlin worriedly. "Do you think she knows what happened?"

"Is there anything else she'd be red hot about?" Merlin asked the obvious, watching Arthur look at Gwen anxiously. "Not to break the love fest or anything, but I don't think it's too wise to keep an angry woman waiting."

Arthur agreed, quickly brushing past Merlin and walking across the hall into his bedroom. Arthur went directly to Merlin's bedside table, picking up the receiver of the black phone, watching Gwen and Merlin run in after him. He took a moment to catch his breath. "Hello…this is Arthur." There was no speaking on the other end, but Arthur could tell that Stella was indeed there; he could hear heavy breathing.

"Arthur Lewis Pendragon…I'm really curious to hear the excuse you've got cooked up this time. You better hope for your sake that it's a good one."

Arthur didn't want to implicate himself, so he remained silent, allowing Stella to begin the tirade he knew she had prepared.

"When you didn't come home last night I knew, I_ knew_ that somethin' wasn't right. I saw you tear outta here like you were on wheels, and if I had used my good sense, I would've stopped you. But Morgana said not to worry, that you were on yonder at Merlin's house, and I figured that I could rest easy, 'cause Lord knows I need the sleep." Stella paused to take a breath, before continuing. "So go on, and imagine my surprise when I came in this morn', and Marge's mouth is flapping 'bout how she heard you were being dragged out of a bar last night."

Arthur tilted his head, of course it was Marge; when was it not? Somehow, that woman found out everything! It was like she had eyes and ears everywhere.

"And you have nothin' to say for yourself? Well is it true then? You're back on the bottle?"

"I'm not 'back on the bottle', you're making it sound like I'm a drunkard."

"Ha! If it quacks like a duck…"

"I won't make any excuses. What Marge said is true, I did get drunk last night. I know, it was a stupid and irresponsible."

"You're right, it was. But wait, there's more Arthur. So, was 'bout ready to go on and fix supper, when I hear a commotion outside in the back parkin' lot. So I mosey on back, to see what all the fuss is 'bout, and I find Tom and Elliot Gibson arguing with Clarence. Now Arthur, do you wanna go ahead and guess why them two were over here?"

"Uhh…"

Stella decided that she would save Arthur the trouble, and answer it for herself. "They were over here, hollerin' 'cause they wanted to know where Merlin lived. Tom was claimin' that Gwen done run off with y'all two last night, and didn't come home." Stella sighed deeply. "I'll tell you Arthur: I've known Tom for years and years now, and never have I seen him in such a rut. Lucky for you, I sent him and Elliot on home."

"Thanks?"

"Don't thank me," Stella said quickly as if she was insulted. "What else was I supposed to do, huh? If Tom found out where Merlin lived, he woulda rung both of your necks. And I think I woulda too. Tell me why that girl is _still _over there, and it's in the afternoon—wait, don't answer that." Stella said quickly. "If it aint Christian, I don't wanna hear it," Stella muttered.

Arthur shook his head; people always assumed the worse with him. "She's afraid to go home," Arthur answered nonetheless. "Should she be?"

"You bet she should! Tell her to start sayin' her prayers now." Stella sighed loudly, taking a few deep breaths. "Do you just go and_ try_ to outdo yourself? What on earth were y'all thinkin'? Havin' a colored girl spend the night with y'all! Did God forget to give you bunch functiononing noggins?"

"Gwen decided on her own to follow us. And I'm glad she did."

Stella scoffed. "Oh, I bet you are—"

"Give me that!"

Arthur heard Morgana come into the mix, snarling at Stella, cutting the woman off. Some crackly static ensued as the receiver was handed over, then noisily adjusted to Morgana's ear.

"Go and get back to work!" Then fainter: "all of y'all! Or the next phone call is to my Uncle!"

Arthur's eyebrows came together, as he heard the anger in his cousin's voice. It seemed that fury was a contagious thing. "Morgana, what—"

"Arthur, where the hell are you? You've been gone for nearly a day!" Morgana hissed, her question nearly unintelligible. "Please think before you answer," Morgana added as an afterthought.

"I'm at Merlin's house. I think you know why already."

"So it's true? Gwen's with you too?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Arthur may have had to answer to Stella, but Morgana was on a totally different level.

"What does it have to do with anything?" Morgana exclaimed, echoing her cousin. She quickly lowered her voice, her words running together. "Arthur: young white men like you don't just 'spend the night' with their pretty colored maids. It's scandalous, and you know it! You may have been drunk, but was Merlin incompetent too?"

"If it's so damn scandalous, why are you having this conversation on the phone, then?"

"It's me alone in the study, there were people tryin' to listen in on Stella, but I cleared them all out."

"People will always talk, no matter what I do."

"I think you've finally lost it," Morgana said quietly. "I think you have finally lost all of your marbles Arthur. How are you so nonchalant about this? Do you realize what this looks like?"

"It's not true."

"No one will give a damn whether it's true or not! I never thought I'd be having this conversation with you. And to add icing to the cake, not only did you spend the night _in_ Merlin's house, _with_ Gwen, you had to go and get drunk too! Arthur, are you just trying to run our name into the ground?"

"I'm not running our name into the ground!"

"Getting drunk with white trash and spending the night with niggers; I'd say you're on the fast track of doing just that!"

Arthur moved the phone from his ear, looking at the receiver in bewilderment. Maybe the alcohol was messing with his hearing, because Morgana _never _used language like that, especially not when talking about Gwen. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, don't 'excuse me', you heard me just fine!" Pause. "Listen, I'm not here to argue. I'm here to say that you better get home before Uncle does, and fix this mess. And don't you even _dare _think of bringin' Gwen 'round here."

"Well what am I supposed to do with her? I can't abandon her."

"She's not your priority. You should be worried about how you're gonna make it through this week end alive. Let Merlin take care of her; you're not her keeper."

Arthur wanted to tell his cousin that she was wrong, but he decided that a maintenance of silence and a level head was ideal. "Fine."

"You better double-time it."

After Morgana's last sentence, Arthur hung up, nearly slamming the phone into its cradle, he was so frustrated. He slowly turned to look at Merlin and Gwen, who both stood with looks of worry. "I swear to God, as soon as I'm getting home, I'm firing Marge!"

"How bad is it?" Merlin finally asked.

"Guinevere, your dad and Elliot came to the Estate looking for you. And apparently the entire house knows what happened last night at 'the Rising Sun'." Arthur pushed his hair back, letting out a labored sigh. "When I screw things up, I'm thorough."

Gwen looked at Arthur, who stared at his feet in thought. "So…what do we do now?"

Arthur slowly raised his head, looking into Gwen's worried eyes. "We deal with the consequences like adults; together."

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired by: "Seven Days Makes One Weak" by This Romantic Tragedy<em>

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><p><strong>AN: **Yay! ArWen is back together…or are they?


	28. Chapter 28

_I am a week late…oops. Just the usual; school and work get in the way of writing :/ Also, this chapter took me a really long time to write , and I had to edit the scenes a bunch of times, and it took me a while before I was happy with it. This chapter deals a lot with Southern society/norms in 1955, so I hope I'm able to illustrate that clearly and effectively. Morgana's back in this chapter, I know some of you missed her ;)_

_On another note: I'm so glad that so many of you enjoyed last week's chapter (actually it was 2 weeks ago, but never mind); the feedback was phenomenal! I hope you enjoy Chapter 28 just as much; if not even more! Leave a comment, tell your friends, add me to your favs…etc._

_YoureAnIllusion_

_**P.S.:** I hope none of you are offended by some of the racially insensitve language in this chapter, and those before. It's not my intention to offend, but create real characters, who would use the real expressions which we use down South...which may even include some ugly ones..._

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><p><strong>Chapter 28: Daddy's Little Peach<strong>

Merlin rested his head against the wheel, slightly banging his forehead against the steering device, as he grumbled incoherently. "How did I let you talk me into this? This is just another half-baked disaster of yours. I'm supposed to be the responsible one—"

Arthur quickly nudged his friend from the passenger seat, pointing straight ahead. "Would you stop blubbering and start driving? The light is green!" Arthur said without a shred of patience. He sat back, as the car began to move again. "And quit whining, no one's forcing you to do anything."

"Oh, really Arthur, I didn't _have_ to do this?"

"No one put a gun to your head," Arthur said casually with a shrug.

"You left your car here last night, and you sort of need that, don't you? We should've done this later. And I still don't know why I agreed to bring Gwen along—"

"Hey!" Gwen cut in from the back seat. "Y'all know I have two good ears, right?"

Merlin looked in his rear view mirror. "Sorry Gwen, no offense. I just don't think it's a good idea for Arthur to roll up into your neighborhood like John Wayne—"

"No one's going anywhere like John Wayne," Arthur corrected his friend, rolling his eyes.

"Really?" Merlin asked, turning the vehicle down into the small and empty parking lot where Arthur's red Aston Martin sat. "How would you describe this 'plan' then?"

"There's no 'plan'. I'm just taking Guinevere home: period, amen."

"Let me do it. I'll take Gwen home, and you get going to yours. You said yourself that Morgana sounded really mad, and it's getting late."

As soon as Merlin put his car into park, Arthur stepped out, pushing his passenger seat forward so Gwen could exit. "When is Morgana _not_ upset about something?" He offered his hand to Gwen, helping her out of the car.

Merlin scrambled to undo his seat belt, as he saw his two friends preparing to leave. "And _you're_ okay with this Gwen?"

Gwen quickly looked at Arthur, then back towards Merlin. "He's just taking me home Merlin."

"I've got a good car too, you know," Merlin said pointing to his vehicle. "Let's just be rational here, y'all. I'll take Gwen home, and this way we can avoid all confrontation. And Arthur, you oughta get your tail on home too; by time you get home it'll be time for supper."

"I'm the reason Guinevere's in this mess, so it's only right that I take her home."

Merlin nearly smacked his forehead. "You two aren't listening. I'm telling you now this is a bad idea. You're _making_ this more difficult than it has to be."

Arthur scoffed, turning his back to Merlin, gently grasping onto Gwen's bicep. "C'mon Guinevere, we should hurry."

But Merlin wasn't ready to let his friends go without driving his point home. He walked along side Arthur and Gwen who walked to the opposite end of the abandoned lot. "Gwen! You tell him, he listens to you! Arthur: this pride or warped sense of chivalry isn't gonna do a lick of good!"

"For the love of Pete, would you just shut your trap?" Arthur growled, digging the keys out of his pocket. "Stop fretting like a little girl. Nothin' bad is gonna happen."

Merlin shut his mouth as he watched Gwen slide into Arthur's passenger seat with ease.

"If it makes you feel any better: I'll call you if anything goes wrong," Arthur added.

"You mean _when_ things go wrong." As Arthur's engine started, Merlin offered one more bit of advice. "Whatever you do Arthur: don't get out of that car!"

* * *

><p>Arthur looked over at Gwen, who had been anxiously biting her nails for the past five minutes, and silent the other ten. "Jeez Guinevere, you're making me nervous too over here."<p>

She dropped her hands into her lap. "If you knew my Daddy, you would be too," she said looking out her window. "In about five minutes, I'll probably meet my death. Guinevere Louise Gibson: dead at age twenty by the hands of her Daddy, and maybe brother too…"

Arthur resisted a laugh, but couldn't help a tight smirk as he looked at his nervous passenger. "Did Merlin's mumbo jumbo get inside of your head?"

"Maybe a little…" She admitted shyly.

"Again, I'm really sorry Guinevere. This is mostly my fault, and if it makes you feel better, I'm gonna get the chewed out too when I get home."

Gwen merely nodded, before adding: "yet…you don't seem worried at all."

Arthur thought on Gwen's words before shrugging, both hands on the wheel as he peered straight ahead. "Getting yelled at and punished doesn't frighten me anymore; I think my father has run out of ideas, anyhow. I've done things way worse than this. Hell, my dad may even get a good chuckle out of this. But you…" Arthur grinned as his voice slowly trailed off, "you're Daddy's perfect little peach; you never get in trouble."

"Not for long. I'm pretty sure Elliot has the 'favorite child' status now."

Arthur turned his attention back to the road, turning onto another street, as he sighed. "Part of me is unable to see why so many people are making such a big deal out of this. There are maids who stay at my house sometimes, and no one gives a fig. But you spend one night, and everything's gone to hell in a hand basket. People are making a mountain out of an ant hill."

"You make it sound like the world knows."

"Ha! Leave it to Marge, and you'll be amazed how fast gossip spreads. That woman just can't mind her own damn business, even if her life depended on it," Arthur growled. "I swear; I have half the mind to fire that busy-body…"

"Arthur…" Gwen warned quietly.

"If she just minded her own business for once in her pitiful life— it's her fault that Stella thinks you and I were between the sheets all night."

Gwen audibly gasped, her hand covering her mouth in fright, before she quickly swatted Arthur's bicep.

"Hey!" He said once he felt the impact.

"I can't believe you just said that!" Gwen nearly shrieked.

"What?" Arthur asked, looking at Gwen, perplexed. "Well it's true—I mean we weren't actually doing that, but that's what Stella said. She practically asked me if we were—"Arthur tilted his head to the side, before whispering "_you know_."

Gwen hung her head, covering her face, muffling her next words. "Stella must think I'm a harlot."

"It's me she doesn't trust, not you."

Gwen slowly sat up from her slouching position, before taking a deep breath. "You know, my own Daddy thinks that I'm choosing white boys over my family; aint that somethin'?"

"Well, Morgana thinks I'm running the Pendragon name into the ground. Bet you can't top _that_," Arthur said jokingly. "Lately, she's been on this 'family honor' kick…she's been listening to my dad_ too_ much. Maybe she is his daughter after all."

"At least she doesn't think that you've been brainwashed. Elliot thinks that I've lost my mind."

"Merlin thinks I've been brainwashed too," Arthur looked at Gwen quickly, "but in a good way, of course."

"And to top it all off, Lorenzo probably hates my guts," Gwen said with wide eyes, staring straight ahead blankly.

"We can be friendless together; all of my 'friends' hate my guts too." Arthur pulled up to a stop sign, smiling down at Gwen, before letting out an amused chuckle.

Gwen looked at him in puzzlement. "What's so funny?"

"Doggonit Guinevere, we sure make one hell of a team!" He said with another laugh. "Destroying the town bit by bit, together!"

Gwen smiled. "You're so silly Arthur. I don't know how your able to laugh, knowing that I'm about to meet my death."

"Do you know how cute you are when you worry?" Arthur asked, before turning silently to the road once again. "Alright, deep breaths: this next turn is into your neighborhood."

Gwen sunk further into her chair, her fingers running through her hair nervously. "I'm gonna be on punishment for months," Gwen muttered.

"On punishment? But you're grown."

"As long as I'm under Daddy's roof, it's Daddy's rules."

Arthur made the dreadful turn, rolling into Gwen's neighborhood, resisting a smile as he watched her clutch onto the leather seat with a death grip, and the movement of her chest increase with rapider and shallower breaths.

"My house is that one," Gwen whispered nearly inaudibly, pointing to her home.

Gwen didn't have a drive way, so Arthur parallel parked against the curb, putting the car into park without hesitation. Slowly he turned to Gwen, rubbing her thigh affectionately, in an attempt to soothe her. "Listen to me Guinevere—Gwen!" Arthur raised his voice, snapping Gwen out of her daze with a start.

"Huh?" She asked, looking down at his hand quizzically.

"If anything goes wrong, if you feel threatened, overwhelmed; I'll be over as soon—"

"Arthur, stop touching me," Gwen hissed, quickly pushing his hand off of her thigh. "I see them through the window."

"Oh," Arthur quickly retracted his hand, turning to find Tom and Elliot pushing the drapes to their living room window aside, peering at them with grave intensity.

Gwen and Arthur sat frozen, until the front door of the tiny home opened up, revealing two very unhappy Gibson men. Both Tom and Elliot stepped out onto their porch, wearing identical stern expressions, each with folded arms over their chests. "Bye Arthur, thanks," Gwen said solemnly, keeping her focus on her father, whose dark and sober eyes followed her every move as she quickly stepped out of Arthur's car.

Arthur watched Gwen clutch onto her purse as she made her way up her walk, before climbing the three concrete steps which brought her to her porch, and level with her father who angrily pointed at Arthur's red Aston-Martin. At this, Gwen bowed her head; Tom continued to speak, pointing angrily at his daughter who refused to make eye contact. Gwen looked up what after appeared to be a barrage of ugly words, only to have Elliot step in, who grabbed his sister by the shoulders. At this Arthur undid his seatbelt, ready to spring to Gwen's rescue, before Tom quickly stepped in front of his angry son, shaking his head as he spoke to Guinevere, before pointing toward the home's open door.

"Get inside, girl!"

Those three words were clearly audible among the muted conversation. It was when Arthur caught a glimpse of Gwen raising her hand to wipe her eyes, that he found himself pulling the keys out of his ignition and jumping out of his car. He waved his arms in Tom's direction, instantly catching the man's attention. "Wait! Mr. Gibson!" Arthur jogged past the side walk and up their lawn, before stopping just at the stairs. Arthur's gaze momentarily diverted to Elliot who made no effort to hide his contempt, before he breathlessly thrust out his right hand in Tom's direction. "Sir, I'm Arthur Pendragon."

Tom folded his strong arms over his chest once again, looking down at Arthur's outstretched hand. "I was born and raised in this town; I know who you are," he said evenly. "And I know that you aint got no business up on my porch."

Arthur retrieved his had quickly. "That's fair, and I'll respect that," Arthur said taking another step further back. "I just wanted to—" Arthur looked at Gwen, whose eyes were slightly reddened, and who watched him from the doorway, seemingly holding her breath. "Sir, I would like to take full responsibility for what happened last night," Arthur said, hitting his chest. "Please don't punish your daughter; her heart is too big for her own good sometimes."

"Young man," Tom said tilting his head to his side, doing his best to control his volume from increasing. "Don't tell me 'bout my own daughter."

Arthur swallowed. "Yes sir, I didn't mean any disrespect. But you should know what happened, and the truth is that I was drunk last night—"

"You were _what_?" Elliot asked breaking his silence.

Arthur looked at Elliot, who looked ready to throttle him. "My friend came to take me home, but I was giving a hard time, and Gwen didn't have it in her to leave me like that. So please, don't be too hard on her for doing the right thing."

Tom lifted his chin, silently analyzing Arthur. "Well, I'll be the judge of that, young man. Thank you for telling me all of that, but I reckon that it's time you high-tail it on home."

Arthur swallowed, nodding somberly. "May I add one last thing sir?"

"No!" Elliot said quickly.

Tom looked at his son, giving him a single look before turning back to Arthur, opening his arms. "Say your piece, then."

"I know that you probably think that I'm a good-for-nothin' skirt chaser, and now a low-down drunkard too—"

"Ha!" Elliot laughed loudly, earning him another warning glare from his father.

"But you've got a good girl, there," Arthur said pointing at Gwen.

Tom turned his head to look at his daughter, and then back to Arthur. "I know it."

"And I owe her a great deal for being so kind and courageous, offering to take care of me even though she knew the possible consequences. But it's in Gwen's nature to want to take care of people, and that's all that happened last night. And I sincerely apologize, Mr. Gibson, if I shamed you or your family in any way; it was not my intention. It will never happen again, I swear on the Good Book."

After Arthur's final words, silence ensued on the Gibson front porch. Gwen stood resting on the door frame for support, unable to believe that Arthur had the audacity and courage to stand up to her father like that. Tom stood with arms at his side, trying to decide what to make of this white boy who came and talked to him like a man, admitting his faults, and defending his daughter. And Elliot stood, nearly vibrating in rage, totally assured that the more money a man had, the more gall he had too.

"You've got_ some_ nerve! Your hoity-toity family may run this town, but that don't mean jack when you're here on _our _porch, tryin' to sway us with some fancy words. I think I know a yellow-belly when I see one—"

"Elliot!" Tom snapped, turning his entire body towards his angry son. "No one said you could talk boy. And don't get it twisted; this aint _your_ house, it's _my_ house." Suddenly, Tom thrust his rough and calloused right hand in Arthur's direction in the same manner the young man had done only a few minutes ago. "You aint that bad…" Tom reluctantly muttered, shaking Arthur's hand firmly. "I appreciate you bein' a good Southern gentleman 'bout this; you certainly didn't have to answer to me."

"I was taught to own up to your mistakes, and this one involved other people too." Arthur rested his hand at his side yet again.

Tom nodded, his eyebrows shooting up.

"I think it's best I leave now," Arthur said politely. "Goodbye Mr. Gibson," Arthur nodded in Elliot's direction, met only by a stone cold gaze, followed by Gwen's mesmerized brown eyes. As Tom and Elliot turned to move back into their home, Gwen stayed in her position, and Arthur gave her a reassuring smile, winking at her quickly.

* * *

><p>"Pop, I hope you're not fixin' to let that piece of trash off<em> that<em> easily!" Elliot was unable to contain himself much longer after the door closed.

"What else was I supposed to say to him?" Tom asked, folding his arms over his chest. "That boy and his family practically run this town, what was I supposed to do? Talk to him like a child?"

"You're not even angry! That skirt-chasing drunkard, who aint never done a decent thing in his spoiled life spent the night with your daughter!"

Tom looked over at Gwen, who watched silently, before turning his angry eyes toward Elliot. "You and I both know that nothin' happened over there; not with my Gwen."

"It don't matter! Gwen's gonna be labeled the town whore 'cause of him, and you're just fine and dandy?"

"No one's fixin' to call my daughter a whore; not while I still got breath in me."

Elliot scoffed, brushing past his father and sister, grumbling loudly the entire way down the hall way. "What's this world comin' to? Where a colored girl can up and spend the night with white folks and her daddy don't care a bit. Where crackers who insult our women can come to our house, and we greet them with a dumb smile!"

Tom took a step in Elliot's direction, cupping his hands over his mouth for projection. "You better watch who you're talkin' to Elliot Marcus; I aint one of your little friends!"

Elliot had stepped into his room, ready to slam his door with all of his might, before he suddenly went back into the hallway, facing his father eye to eye.

"Gwen made a mistake Elliot, okay? You act like we can run all over town like we run the place. There's nothin' else we can do except handle our own, and that's what I'll do. And I don't know why you've been so angry lately…but this is the way things are."

Elliot blinked in astonishment, taking away from his father and toward his room. "So you're ready to just sit back and watch other people's houses burn to the ground, watch more of your friends literally get dragged out of their homes, and beaten within an inch of their lives?"

"Of course I don't like seein' that. But the difference between you and me Elliot is that you're so quick to react, and it only makes things worse. There's a reason why hot heads don't get anything done; it's 'cause no one take them seriously."

"Call me a hot head if you want," Elliot muttered, turning back into his room. "At least I don't roll over and say 'yes sir, mas'r Arthur' when some uppity cracker comes to my house." Elliot tried to close his bedroom door, but it was blocked by the forearm of his father, who quickly stepped into his room, his face hard and red.

"Is that what you think of your papa? That I just roll over to white men?"

"If the shoe fits," Elliot scoffed, he too crossing his arms over his chest. "That's all you seem to do! Put your head down and take it. Well I'd rather be a 'hot head' then, 'cause I'm not fixin' to get trampled over and do nothing 'bout it."

"You've got a lot of nerve boy! I've been the one running this family for all these years, and we're still alive, with a roof over our head and food on the table. And you know why? It's 'cause I didn't pick fights over every little thing. If I done something every time I've been wronged by a white man; I would've spent my whole life fighting!"

"Well, you gotta fight sometimes, Pop! Last summer, three boys assaulted Gwen in the street and what'd you do? Nothin'. You watched a bunch of hooligans set the Neely's house on fire, and what'd you do? Hide out in your living room, and pretend that everything was normal the next day. And now, your daughter is runnin' off with white men, comin' home with them at damn near four o'clock in the_ afternoon_, and you're all peachy keen? Well I aint! I'm through with this. Slavery is over Pop; I aint no man's slave, and I aint gonna live like one neither. I don't want the life you had—"

"Get out of this house."

"And I—" Elliot paused, as his mind registered his father's word solemn words. Elliot's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What'd you say?"

"So you think you're grown, and I'm just some lousy push-over, huh? If you're too good for this family—well no one's keepin' you here." Tom motioned towards the open door. "Go on and get then, seen as you know everything. Your mama would weep a river if she ever saw the way you carry on now. You shame her Elliot," Tom said sadly, shaking his head. "This new attitude of yours aint welcome in this house, not anymore."

Elliot scoffed, before brushing past Tom, walking out into the hall way. "Mama would be ashamed to see how weak you are," Elliot growled, turning around to level his narrow eyes at his father.

"That's it!" Tom yelled with all of his might, his voice going hoarse as he pointed towards the front door. "You get outta this house right now, before I make you!"

"Daddy, Elliot! Y'all quit it, please. You don't mean what you're saying," Gwen pleaded, moving to stand next to her brother.

"Yes I do!" The two men nearly said in unison.

Elliot glared at his father, before resting a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Bye Gwen."

"Elliot you can't—"

"And don't you come back 'til you learn how to treat somebody!" Tom yelled just loud enough to be heard over the slam of the front door, which was forceful enough to shake the salt and pepper shakers on the kitchen table.

After a few moment of staring at the door, Gwen looked at her father, she too angry. "Why'd you do that?" She asked bitterly.

"Excuse me, young lady? Don't you forget that you're skatin' on thin ice too, missy." Tom said sternly. "You better scurry on to your room. I'm not ready to deal with two disobedient kids in one day. Go on and get!" Tom reiterated angrily.

Gwen realized that she wouldn't further her cause by arguing, so she swallowed the retort she was aching to deliver, and walked directly to her room, not emerging until she heard her father leave the house some hours later.

* * *

><p>Arthur lifted up a quick prayer of thanks once he parked his car, realizing that his father wasn't home. He promptly made his way up the stone steps, running his hands continuously through his hair so he wouldn't appear to be too disheveled. He popped a mint into his mouth, because he had smoked two cigarettes on the way home from Gwen's. So much for quitting.<p>

"Okay Arthur, this is it," he said standing before his front door, taking a deep breath. "You gotta go in with chest out, chin up; you're a Pendragon." Arthur finally grasped the door knob, opening the door just a little as he looked into the foyer, sighing in relief as he saw that it was completely empty. Quickly, he opened the door the rest of the way, stepping onto the shining tile, and closing the large door slowly and quietly. He quickly canvassed the area one last time, before making a dash for the stairs, taking each step two at a time until he reached the second level.

Across the hall, Morgana's bedroom door was shut, signifying that she was inside. Gingerly, not wanting to create a single unnecessary creak, Arthur twisted the door knob of his room, tiptoeing inside as soon as he had opened the door wide enough to barely fit through. Before he even set one foot fully into his room, Arthur's light blue eyes crashed with Morgana's steely gaze. She sat daintily atop his desk with her legs crossed, reading a book as if it were complete natural. As she heard her cousin sneak into the room, Morgana's head slowly lifted and she set her book to the side.

Though Morgana's presence greatly startled him, Arthur did his best to try and hide the fact, taking a step back as his cousin rose to a standing position. "What the hell are you doing?" He asked angrily.

"I should ask you the same thing: I'm not the one sneaking into my own room."

"Yeah, 'cause waiting around in someone else's is so much better," Arthur scoffed, finally walking and closing the door behind him. "So are you here to give me the pre-lecture? Get me warmed up for Dad's big spiel? Because if you are, you can save your breath; I've heard all the rhetoric before."

"I'm not here to lecture."

Arthur put his arms behind his back, shrugging off his jacket. "Oh, so you just stopped by for a friendly chat, then?"

"It can be a friendly chat if you make it. I don't know what happened, maybe this oughta be friendly."

"You mean you didn't get all of the juicy details from that big mouth, Marge?"

"Marge has a way of…embellishing. I want to hear it from you; the God honest truth."

Arthur folded his arms over his chest, as he casually shrugged. "Not that it's any of your business…but there's nothing much to hear. I got drunk, Merlin came to pick me up, we ran into Guinevere, and then she came with us to Merlin's house. The end."

Morgana resisted a snort. "_The end_?" Morgana nearly shrieked, pointing to her pale left wrist, where she wore her watch. "You do realize that it's almost four o'clock, don't you? That's not '_the end_'."

Arthur shrugged again, this time more slowly. "I may or may not have dropped Gwen off at her house, where I possibly had a talk with her dad and brother."

Morgana's mouth dropped, before her eyes narrowed. "What on earth possessed you to do such a fool thing?"

"It was my fault she was in trouble. And she was about to be punished for doing the right thing."

Morgana looked at her cousin silently for a few moments, before slightly leaning on his desk. "The right thing? You mean by tending to you?"

"Exactly. She didn't have to."

"Tell me: why were you drunk anyhow?"

"Not that it's any of your business…" Arthur said again, "but I had nothing better to do. In case you haven't noticed; my social life is shot."

Morgana laughed in delight, showcasing her perfectly white teeth. "That's a real sorry excuse; how 'bout you try again?"

"That's the only one I got," Arthur said plainly. "It's not my problem if it's not good enough for you."

Morgana tapped her chin in thought. "No, no, no. You don't get off that easy, 'cause I know you Arthur. And you only go out to drink for two reasons: when there's a party going on, oor when you're trying to drown your blues….so which one was it?"

Arthur took a step away from Morgana, surprised at how unsettled he felt by her subtle grin. "I, uhh…"

"You went to that dingy bar because you were upset; weren't you?" Morgana asked sympathetically. "You've been moping 'round the house for some time; carrying on like someone stole your best friend. But that's not the case is it?" Morgana evaluated Arthur's response by looking into light blue eyes, before adding: "no…it's something else."

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, only to find his tongue tied by Morgana's spot on, yet chilling assessment.

Suddenly, Morgana stepped away, offering Arthur a shrug of her own. "Fine, you don't have to tell me. But I do find it a mighty coincidence that you just _happen _to run into one of our maids."

"Coincidences happen every day; I was just a little lucky, that it was Guinevere of all people."

"You're right," "Morgana said with a smile. "That bit could've been a stroke of luck; Gwen would help anyone."

"You're right."

"Heck! She probably even begged to go with you to Merlin's house!" Morgana said with a laugh.

"I don't remember much of the conversation, I was drunk, remember?"

"Oh yeah. But poor Gwen," Morgana said clucking her tongue. "I bet she felt downright awful for disobeying her dad, huh?"

"She did, and it was my fault. _That's _why I had to talk to her family, and let them know what really happened."

"You know…now that I think about it; that was a really nice thing to do, Arthur."

"Thanks."

"You must really care 'bout Gwen."

"She's a nice and very likeable girl; you should know, you're her friend."

"You're right; she is very likable. She's compassionate…intelligent…pretty …gullible…" Suddenly Morgana's voice changed from calming and sympathetic, to cold and direct. She delivered her next words with a sheer bluntness which nearly sent Arthur stumbling. "And that's exactly her problem."

"Huh?" Arthur asked, tilting his head.

"Can I be direct now, Arthur?"

"When are you not?"

"You should stay away from Guinevere Gibson; starting today."

"Huh?"

"You know I'm not blind Arthur, right? I see the way you look at Gwen, how tenderly you speak of her—to her, how you're a totally different person around her—"

"Why don't you just cut to the chase, Morgana?"

"Some people may think that you're self-centered bastard, but I know that you're not; that you care about people, no matter what façade you put on."

"Thanks, but I don't need a psychoanalysis," Arthur said laden with sarcasm.

"Maybe not, but you do need the stone-cold truth, and that's this: people are gonna start lookin' at you and Gwen…and they're gonna make some very _bad _conclusions; especially after what happened last night. Now listen, I know that you and Gwen aren't like that, okay? I mean she's cute, and maybe you are kinda sweet on her—"

"Get to the point, Morgana," Arthur growled.

"But it's the people who _don't _know you who will be the ones to start the rumors. In case you haven't noticed; colored girls and white guys don't spend the night together platonically…."

"You're making a big deal out of nothing. You're being way too hypothetical right now."

Morgana put a hand on her hips, as she laughed once. "Ha! I am? Take a look around Arthur: colored may have different jobs than us, live in different neighborhoods, and the list goes on and on, but that has _never _stopped mixed—r-r-relationships." Morgana nearly choked on the word, but she was eventually able to spit it out. "And don't pretend that I'm exaggerating, because you know first-hand how men like to brag 'bout how many coloreds they've been with, like it's a damn sport."

"Sure it happens, but you're painting with a mighty broad brush," Arthur said with narrowed eyes.

"No I'm not." Morgana said shaking her head, "and you know it. Just look at Mary Tate and Raymond Neely; it happens all the time on both sides. And you being so friendly with a colored; spending the night with her," Morgana let out a hefty sigh, "people are gonna get mighty suspicious."

"Well if they're so ignorant, then that's their problem."

"No it's not Arthur! Then it becomes_ our_ problem; once it gets to that level it'll affect the entire family. Do you want that; for us to be humiliated and black-listed because of a misunderstanding? Well I sure as hell don't! I won't sit around, and watch your callousness destroy us."

Arthur's eyes widened, as he realized just how worked up Morgana was becoming. "I'm not 'destroying' anything. What on earth has gotten into you, Morgana?"

"I should ask you the same thing! There was a time where you wouldn't be caught dead with someone like Gwen; a poor colored woman."

"Really, she's a poor colored? I didn't realize," Arthur scoffed.

Morgana ignored the comment. "But now you're goin' over to her house, spending the night with her—and God only knows what else," Morgana sneered in disgust. "And you're content with dragging us all down with you? All of us being labeled 'nigger lovers' because you're reckless?" Morgana seethed.

Arthur literally flinched, blinking rapidly. "Quit using that ugly word to describe Guinevere, 'cause she aint a nigger! That word is so crass, I can't believe that_ you_, miss prim and proper would even use it!"

Morgana raised an eyebrow at Arthur's telling outburst. "Crass?"

"It's not something a lady should say. Especially not you—isn't Gwen your friend anyhow? 'Cause they way you've been calling her out of name," Arthur looked Morgana up and down, "I'm not so sure I like it."

"My, my…" Morgana smiled widely, before laughing sweetly. "Aren't we 'racially sensitive' now? _You're _beginning to sound like a Yankee, there Arthur."

"I guess it beats sounding like a Klansman, doesn't it?" Arthur walked to his door, swinging it open in one swift movement, motioning with his arm toward the desolate hallway. "This little chit chat was_ really _special; we should do it again sometime."

Morgana rolled her eyes, brushing past Arthur, but stopping just outside of the doorway. "Just don't come running to me for help when everything goes to hell, and I'll try not to say 'I told you so'."

"Don't you worry your pretty little head 'bout that." Arthur wasted not another moment before he swung the door closed, nearly slamming it in Morgana's face.

"I'm sure Uncle will get a good laugh out of this!" Morgana exclaimed through the door.

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired By: "Daddy's Little Peach" by Emery<em>


	29. Chapter 29

_Some of you were saying that you missed Vivian…well she's back! Yay? Long chapter; I didn't expect it to be this long, but I doubt y'all will complain. I know it took me two weeks again, but life is busy. _

_Thanks for the constant readership and kind words; it mean a lot. I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this story; I hope you enjoy 29 as much as the rest._

**Cultural Note:**_ Here down South, we don't drink "iced tea" we drink "sweet tea"! (Honestly, it's really the same thing; they're both cold. Except we make it so sweet you could pour the stuff on top of pancakes). And even though it's the latter of winter in the story, we drink sweet tea year round (personally, I don't like it). But there you go, in case any of you were wondering later…_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 29: Studying Politics<strong>

Tom's eyes did a double take over his Sunday newspaper as he watched his daughter saunter in the kitchen, already in her good clothes for church but with her hair undone. "Oh, you're up and dressed already?" Tom asked, glancing at his old and worn wrist-watch. "You know church doesn't start for another good hour and a half..."

"I woke up, and didn't feel like going back to sleep," Gwen explained with a shrug as her bare feet shuffled against the cold linoleum kitchen floor towards the counter where the bread sat on a cutting board. "Did Elliot come back last night?" Gwen asked as she sliced a couple of slices of the homemade loaf.

Tom threw his newspaper back up with one hand, setting his coffee mug to his lips with the other. He took a loud and drawn out slurp before answering simply: "Nope."

Gwen's hands froze over the bread as she heard her father's disinterest reply. "Do you know where he went?"

"Nope?"

"Are you sure he didn't phone Miss Alice wanting to talk to us—"

"Gwen: he didn't call nobody. And I don't expect him to. Elliot wanted out, and now he's got it. I hope he's happy, and if he aint, he can come back when he learns how to treat somebody. Now quit fretting over nothin'; Elliot Marcus is a grown man who can make grown decisions."

Gwen swallowed her retort of: "But do you even care?" turning the focus of the conversation to the Sunday paper instead. "Anything good?" She asked pointing at the black and white newspaper.

Tom looked up at his daughter with his thick-rimmed spectacles, as he raised his eyebrows quickly. "Funny you should ask," Tom said unfolding the cover page from the front, handing it out towards his daughter who approached the table.

"What's this?" She asked through a mouthful of bread.

"Councilman Tate has officially resigned, and he and his family are skipping on out of town. Figures," Tom said with a disgusted scoff. "Cowards—yellow bellies—that's what them folk are; a bunch of hound dogs."

Gwen ignored her father's words as she looked at the prominent picture on the page, which was of the Councilman and his wife, locking arms and covering their eyes from the reporters who tried to keep pace with them. "They can't leave…all of their roots are here. Their kin has been in this town since it's been founded."

"Times change, don't they? But the article said that Tates didn't wanna comment and— looky there," Tom said pointing to the middle of the page with a grin. "Your fat cat boss Luther—"

"—Uther."

"Whatever—was quoted, saying," Tom paused as he picked up the paper in both hands, quickly scanning for the block quote. He cleared his throat deeply in preparation. "'Councilman Henry Tate, and his fathers before him, have served this town and state faithfully for decades. Because of this exemplary service, I believe that Henry and his honorable family deserve the utmost respect and privacy throughout this trying time.' Wait," Tom said holding his hand up, "there's more. Fat cat Pendragon was then asked how he thinks 'this scandal reflects upon the modern society as a whole.'"

"I don't think that I wanna hear any more," Gwen grumbled, taking another bite of her bread. "Please stop reading."

Tom ignored his daughter as he continued to read. "Uther said: 'Indeed, this entire event has been most unfortunate'." Tom scoffed before continuing. "'Yet, we must be vigilant in protecting our children, especially our women from the world's brutality—' I think he meant to say 'colored men'," Tom interjected. "It's probably a misquote," he said sarcastically.

"Daddy, are you gonna finish it or not?" Gwen asked slightly annoyed.

"Okay, okay, here's the last bit. Uther was asked if he knows where Mary Tate is, and if the rumors are true that the girl's been knocked up."

"Did he answer?"

"Listen here: 'Mr. Pendragon respectfully declined to answer the question.'"

"No kidding," Gwen said rubbing her forehead.

"Aint that something? The Tates went from ruling everything in this town to running away from it—my mama always said the Lord wouldn't be mocked and there you go; living proof!" Tom said clucking his tongue.

Gwen's nose wrinkled as she thought on her father's last comment, but she decided not to question it further, hoping to save herself from a long-winded rant. "Well does it say where they're going?"

"Yeah: Syracuse, New York. Apparently they got lots of land up there in Yankee land."

"Syracuse?"

"And the reporter must've done his research; the article even mentions how Raymond and his family had to go to Chicago where they are…" Tom's voice trailed off as he searched for the appropriate quote. "'Trying to escape further justice within and by the state.'"

Gwen's eyes narrowed, as she looked at the black and white paper. "Justice within the state?"

"Yup Gwen, you heard right. Apparently the Neely's are 'escaping 'justice'." Tom slammed down the paper, shaking his head vigorously. "That article is a load of manure. Tell me, what does Luther Pendragon have to do with any of this? Who gives a hoot what that man has to say about anything?"

Gwen restrained herself from correcting her father for a second time.

"And I'd like to know who the hell changed the definition of 'justice', 'cause I missed the memo." Tom closed his eyes, shaking his head in contained anger. "I've seen animals treat each other better then how we treat each other. A mighty shame, it is."

Gwen stuffed the last bit of bread into her mouth, chewing quietly as her father continued to rant. As long as he wasn't mention the incidents of the previous day…he could rant about the Neelys and Tates for as long as he liked.

"Justice my left foot! That Mary girl got exactly what she deserved; a baby."

"You make babies sound like a bad thing."

"They are when they're all mixed up."

Gwen gasped at her father's calloused words. "Daddy: babies aren't sent for punishment."

Tom folded his arms over his chest, as he leaned back into his chair. "This one sure was. Teach that girl to stick with her own kind, and Raymond too."

Gwen looked down at her hands, as she tilted her head to the side in thought. "Who knows…maybe Raymond and Mary will find each other and raise the baby together? I mean…Chicago and New York aren't that far away from one another…"

There was deadpan silence in the small kitchen for a few moments, as Tom looked at his daughter in total confusion. "Did you just say that out loud? That has to be the dumbest thing I ever did hear."

Gwen looked up quickly. "What's foolish about that? It's not like it's never happened!"

"That would be like cats laying down with dogs, then startin' a family—"

"It's_ nothing_ like that."

"Even if it;s not, that aint never gonna happen. Mary's Papa would sooner put her down then let her be with Raymond. But if the roles were switched…ha! Then everyone would be hush hush 'bout it."

Gwen twirled a brown curl around her index finger.

"What a world we live in," Tom said with a sarcastic laugh. "Where our men take up with a white girl, and it ends with a lynching. But one of their men can do as they please with our women, and we can't do nothin'. Now, where's the justice in _that_?"

"But…"

Tom narrowed his eyes at Gwen. "There aint no 'but's' 'bout it, Gwen," Tom said quickly.

Gwen pushed herself away from the table, standing as she shrugged casually. "I'm not saying that it makes sense, but colored girls and white guys do run away together."

Tom scoffed. "The sell outs, you mean."

Gwen pushed the hair out of her eyes, before sighing. "Thanks for reading that article to me, Daddy. But I gotta finish getting ready for church."

Tom picked up the newspaper once again, then adding: "And don't think you got away scot-free young lady; we still need to talk about yesterday."

* * *

><p>"Where's Dad?" Arthur asked, his eyes scanning the large dining room, whose sole occupant was Morgana, reading the large Sunday paper.<p>

"Oh, 'good morning' to you too, Arthur," Morgana said, her eyes still on the paper, as Arthur rolled his.

"Sorry. Good morning Morgana, how did you sleep last night?"

"Quite well, and yourself?"

"Good enough."

"So I take it that all the remnants of your hangover are gone?"

Arthur pulled out the chair next to Morgana, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Yeah," he groaned, covering her face.

"Yes, hard boiled. And coffee with milk with three sugar cubes; make it piping hot."

"Huh?" Arthur perked up, sitting straight in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he listened to the female voice from the kitchen.

"Also, Arthur should be down any minute, so you should go and bring his plate out," the woman continued.

Arthur slammed his fists against the hard wood table, levying narrow gaze at Morgana whose eyes remained glued on the paper she had been reading since his arrival. "What the hell is Vivian doing here?" Arthur whispered angrily. "Hey! Morgana, look at me: I'm talking to you!" Arthur hissed as his cousin continued to read, the open newspaper covering her face.

"What?" She asked matching his anger, throwing the paper down.

"Why is_ she_ here?" Arthur repeated, pointing towards the kitchen, where he could still hear Vivian giving orders.

"I invited _Vivian_ over."

"On a Sunday morning? Doesn't she have to go to church or something?"

"Shouldn't I be asking the same of you?"

Arthur scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. "I can't believe that you would—"

"Arthur!" Vivian suddenly appeared in the door way of the dining room, clasping her hands together as she beamed brightly at the sight of Arthur.

Arthur merely grimaced at the sight.

"You're finally up," she said gently with a smile, moving towards the table.

Arthur shot Morgana another icy glare, before turning to Vivian, whose light eyes sparkled with joy. "It appears that way," he said sarcastically. "And you're…here."

Vivian sat in the seat opposite to Arthur, running a hand through her blond hair self-consciously. "So, how do you feel? Does your head hurt? I can get one of the orderlies to prepare you some tea."

Arthur turned his attention away from the rambling Vivian, and to Stella who had just entered the dining room with a plate full of food and a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. Her dark eyes met Arthur's, with a gaze which was a mixture of examination and disappointment. She set the plate in front of him, and Arthur thanked her heartily, and Stella exited as quickly and quietly as she had come. Arthur didn't hesitate in picking up his fork, and digging in.

Morgana tilted her head to the side, after watching her cousin devour his food in a beast like fashion. "Arthur…Vivian asked you a question: how do you feel?"

Arthur looked up at Vivian who sat across from him, waiting with baited breath for his response. "Fine, thanks." He took a gulp of his juice, before physically turning his body away from Vivian and towards Morgana. "Where's Dad?"

"He was called to the office yesterday for some dire business, and he said he'd be back tonight; lucky you."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, lucky me," he grumbled through one side of his mouth.

The dense silence returned, as all three continued to eat, the only sounds filling the room was the expensive silverware clinking against the fine china, and the occasional slurp from Arthur, or clearing of the throat from Vivian.

"Did you take a gander at that article 'bout your uncle in the paper, this morning?" Vivian asked Morgana.

"There was an article 'bout Dad?" Arthur asked suddenly, with a full mouth.

Morgana glanced at the newspaper which she had cast aside. "It wasn't exactly _about_ uncle."

Arthur moved his hand around in a circle, telling Morgana to go on.

"Councilman Tate is resigning and leaving for Syracuse, while Mary is nowhere to be found, and her lover is hiding from the law in Chicago. Uncle just commented on the situation."

"Syracuse?" Arthur blurted, before laughing. "What the hell is in _Syracuse_?"

"The Tates have a large estate up there. I've been there several times; it's quite beautiful," Vivian added. "And…it's harder to get farther away from this town than New York."

"There's always California, or Canada."

Morgana's eyes rolled at her cousin's unproductive addition to the conversation. "How embarrassing," she scoffed, nearly slamming her mug down. "That entire family has been disgraced, forced to run away from their home like cowards, and for what? For some tawdry affair?" Morgana shook her head. "It makes me _sick_. Right down to my stomach, I swear it."

Vivian nodded vehemently. "And to think that Mary and I had been friends even. I wish I could've done something to stop all of this. Now she's hidden away somewhere in the country side with child. It's so sad," Vivian commented quietly with a frown.

"Pregnant with a colored man's baby. I never thought I'd see the day. Mary had it _all_. Now she has nothing."

"I wish I could've stopped it," Vivian repeated. "If Mary had known all of this would happen…she'd never look at a Negro ever again. How is she going to move on after this? What man would want to marry her after she's been tainted?"

Arthur's head swiveled back and forth as he listened to the two women converse back and forth without pause like a ping pong match. The thought of Mary and Raymond made Morgana sick? Well, listening to the two of them was beginning to make _him_ sick. "Would y'all just quit it? You sound like a couple of gossiping hens."

Vivian and Morgana bother paused, halting their next words as they fastened their gazes upon Arthur, who looked at them, obviously upset.

"Why don't y'all jump off of your high white horses, and take a good look around. Vivian: there probably wasn't anything you could've done. I'm pretty sure Mary cared more about Raymond than she does about your dumb opinion. She loved him, so nothing you could've said would've changed that. And last time I checked: you're not God, so quit judging her heart.

"But Ray was—is a….n-n-nigger," Vivian stammered. "It's an abomination."

"I swear!" Arthur exclaimed, crashing a fist against the table, shaking some of its contents. "I swear to God, if I hear y'all use that word one more time! Can't you think of anything else to call them?"

Morgana and Vivian both leapt backward in their seats, their brows furrowing at Arthur's passion. "But…that's what they are. They're colored."

"The sky's blue, the grass is green, Mary's white, Raymond's a colored; by golly I didn't notice! Thank you for the life lesson Vivian!"

Morgana held her hand out towards her cousin. "Arthur, don't get so worked up over nothing. We're girls, we talk. We're just worried about Mary—she was our friend."

"You two don't give a fig 'bout her; you're just happy it didn't happen to you." Arthur scooted his chair back, opening his arms. "C'mon, just go and say it. All of this is just one big gloat: y'all are pure white Lillie, while she some tarnished whore. This is what all this talk is about, so why don't you just come out and say it?"

Vivian's eyes narrowed to slits. "How dare you insinuate such a ghastly thing!"

Arthur took his fork, taking one last bite of his delicious food, before quickly swallowing. "Maybe the Tates are moving to Syracuse to get away from judgmental people like you. I know I sure would."

"_Excuse _me?" Morgana nearly choked, resting a pale hand on her chest. "Arthur, you have insulted us for the last time!"

"You're right, I'm leaving," Arthur said finally standing. "You pair are making _me _sick. I'm tired of hearing the same tired crap, regurgitated by everyone. At least be original," Arthur took a few steps away from the table before giving the two women a once over filled with revulsion. "You have no shame, and it's a little frightening."

Vivian, too stood, calling after Arthur. "Why should I be ashamed of knowing what my place is?"

Arthur sped up even further as he heard Vivian's words, biting down on the inside of his mouth to refrain from lashing out even further. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

* * *

><p>"Daddy, I don't mean to annoy you, but I'm really worried 'bout Elliot."<p>

Tom looked at his daughter who stood over the stove fixing a pot of stew for dinner, a he sat at the kitchen table, tinkering with the ham radio. "Ahhh, this again, Gwen?"

"I've been thinking of him all day. Were he's sleeping, what he's eating, if he's happy—"

"The boy literally left yesterday, Gwen! That aint enough time to starve, get depressed, or freeze to death. He's a Gibson man; he'll tough it out if he's got to."

"But he shouldn't have to in the first place…" Gwen grumbled. "We should be taking care of him, it's our job."

"Ha!" Tom stopped laughing as he watched a tight frown emerge on Gwen's soft features. He composed himself with a sigh. "Gwen, I'll see him tomorrow at work. I'm sure he's all in one piece anyhow. Just stop fretting."

Gwen turned her back to her father, annoyed at how nonchalant he was about everything. She wouldn't stop worrying until Elliot was back at home, safe and sound. It seemed that trouble always had a way of finding her adventurous and sometimes aggressive brother.

"Don't beat yourself up about this, Gwen."

"Huh?" Gwen asked, turning towards her father once again.

"Don't think that this is all your fault."

"I don't…" She said unconvincingly.

"Yeah you do. And maybe it partly is…but Elliot was bound to leave; for one reason or another."

"Do you really think that?"

Tom nodded. "He felt…boxed in, you know? Sooner or later, he was gonna find an excuse to get up outta here and live his life on his lonesome." Tom looked back at the ham radio, as he smiled sadly. "You will too Gwen. When some dashing young man comes along, and sweeps you off of your pretty little feet."

Gwen giggled, turning back to her bubbling stew. "I think it'll be a while 'til that happens, Daddy."

"I sure hope not! Your mama and I were hitched with Elliot in his little crib when we were your age."

"You remind me of this often…"

"Well I'll be!" Tom exclaimed with a hardy laugh, standing quickly.

"What?" Gwen asked looking at her suddenly alert father.

"Speaking of fine young men: aint that Lorenzo's car on yonder?" Tom said with a smile, pointing out of the kitchen window.

Gwen gasped, dropping to the ground in a hurry.

"What are you doin', Gwen?" He asked, scratching his head.

"Daddy, tell Lorenzo I'm not here. I don't want him to see me," Gwen whispered.

"Huh?"

"Don't let him in," Gwen whispered, pointing to the front door.

"Girl, what are you whispering for? And quit bein' sill, and get off of that floor!"

"I aint being silly, I've got a good reaon!" Gwen exclaimed, before he heard three rapid knocks at the front door, and she brought her voice down to a whisper once again. "Please Daddy, I don't want to see him right now."

"Did something happen?" Tom asked, looking at the door, then to his cowering daughter.

"No, nothing. Just—please Daddy! Tell him I'm out picking flowers or climbing Mt. Everest—I don't care what you tell him! Just get him away, please," Gwen pleaded, clasping her hands together.

Tom looked at Gwen, as he moved to the front door, where another set of knocks came. "I'm a Christian; I don't wanna lie to that boy."

"Daddy…" Gwen gutturally groaned. "Just trust me when I say it won't be good to talk to him right now."

"Is this 'bout last night?" Tom asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"Hello? Is anyone home?" Lorenzo called from the other side of the wooden door.

"Yeah, just a minute!" Tom yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth.

"He's gonna get suspicious if you take longer," Gwen reminded her conflicted father.

"Fine, fine," Tom said holding up his hands. "Just this once. But don't ask me to lie for you ever again, you hear?"

"Yes sir. Thank you," Gwen closed her eyes momentarily in relief.

Tom mentally reprimanded himself for his inability to deny his daughter as he opened the front door, to find Lorenzo waiting patiently.

"Mr. Gibson, how are you?" Lorenzo asked happily.

Tom looked over Lorenzo's shoulder towards his car, then back at the young man who stood there with his hands in his pockets. "I'm livin' and health; I got no complaints."

"Is Gwen home? I wanted to make sure she got in okay. Sorry I wasn't able to stop in earlier."

"Aww, that' too bad Lorenzo; she just left….at a friend' house for supper."

"Oh…" Lorenzo said dejectedly, looking down at his feet. "Okay then, when she gets back in, can you tell her that I stopped by?"

Tom plastered on the most convincing smile he could muster; it was contorted at best. "Sure thing, I'll make sure she gets back to you. And don't you worry 'bout Gwen; she's just fine. But I do appreciate you checking up on her any way. You're a good fella."

Lorenzo smiled once again, nodding. "Have a nice night."

"Take care Lorenzo," Tom said with a brisk wave. As soon as Lorenzo opened the door to his car, Tom closed the door to his home; putting his hands on his hips as he walked back into the kitchen. "Gwen: that wasn't right, and you know it."

Gwen waited until she heard the engine of Lorenzo's car speed down the road before standing, brushing off her pants as she did so. "I would've done it myself if I could've."

"That sorta defeats the purpose of hiding."

"I know I owe you one, Daddy."

"So that's it? I lied to that nice fella for you, and you're not even gonna tell me why I had to?"

"Things are a little…strange—confusing between us." Gwen figured that that statement wasn't very far from the truth.

"Strange as in…getting serious?" Tom asked hopefully.

Tom' sudden burst of enthusiasm didn't go unnoticed by Gwen. "Sorry to burst your bubble…but I honestlydon't think you'll be seeing much of Lorenzo from now on."

Tom shoulder's noticeable dropped, as his eye brows came together in confusion. "Huh?" Was the most coherent thought which came to his reeling mind. "B-b-but y'all two get on like peas and carrots! Did he do somethin'?"

"It's not him, he's wonderful—"

"So what is it then? Spit it out girl!"

"It's nothing he did; it's me." Gwen crossed her arms over her chest as she shrugged. "Lorenzo just isn't…what I'm looking for, Daddy. That's it. I think _you_ love him more than I do."

Tom's head rolled forward in amazement. "Where is all of this coming from? I thought you liked the boy—I liked him. Now that's sayin' something!"

"Why don't you marry him then?" Gwen muttered as she turned back to her pot.

"Excuse me? Do you wanna say that a little louder?"

"You're right: Lorenzo is a good person, but just not for me."

"I just don't understand," Tom admitted rubbing his forehead.

"It's complicated, Daddy," Gwen whispered. "It's not fair for me to continue a half-relationship with Lorenzo. He needs to be free to…be with other girls."

Tom sat down at the table with a defeated sigh. "Are you sure about this?"

Gwen nodded, as she stood on her tip toes to take down two glass bowls. "I'm am. I know you like him, and this must come as a shock."

"I was willing to bet stone cold cash that I'd be walking you down the aisle by the end of the year," Tom admitted.

Gwen smiled sadly. "It doesn't look that way, Daddy."

"I just want you to settle down: marry a nice man, have kids, own your own house: I just want you to have everything. I don't want you to feel like you're…missing out on anything."

"Daddy, there are plenty of other guys out there. It's not the end of the world."

Tom hung his head, covering his eyes with his hand. "But there aren't plenty of other 'Lorenzos'," Tom lamented.

Gwen stood next to her father, rubbing his back gently. "There's someone out there for me, who you'll like even more than Lorenzo. You'll see."

"Lord, I sure hope so."

* * *

><p>"He's been brainwashed, Morgana! Didn't you hear him?" Vivian screeched, throwing her arms into the air. "He sounded like a raving lunatic! Golly, I nearly expected him to start foaming at the mouth!"<p>

"Shh!" Morgana hissed, pressing her index fingers to her lips as she sheepishly looked around the restaurant, her gaze colliding with a few curious faces. "Stop makin' a scene!" She hissed under her breath. "People are beginning to stare. Pull yourself together, girl."

Vivian ceased her exclamation; instead she covered her face with her hands as her shoulder heaved forward. "I'm so sorry, I'm a right mess—" Vivian wasn't able to finish before a small hiccup escaped, causing Morgana to look around the room once again.

"Vivian, I said _quit it_! You're embarrassin' me!" Morgana's eyes narrowed as Vivian kept her face covered, blubbering away. Morgana rolled her eyes as she scanned the small restaurant for their waiter, and she waved her hand once she had caught his attention.

"Yes'm?" The man asked Morgana, only after he took a quick look at Vivian.

"Yes, could I have a glass of cold water? And the check in ten minutes?"

The handsome young man looked at Vivian who was dabbing her eyes delicately, staring at her lap in embarrassment. "Uh…yes ma'am, right away."

Once the waiter left, Morgana turned toward Vivian who had finally ceased the sniffles and hiccups, leaving her with puffy red eyes. "Are you through, now? 'Cause if you're not, I'll get up and leave," Morgana said coldly, folding her arms over her chest.

Vivian dabbed her wet eyes a little more, before nodding. "Sorry, it's just—I feel like my world is falling apart. Bit by little bit," Vivian squealed, making Morgana think that another round of water works was on the way.

"Vivian, is this about breakfast?" Morgana asked putting her hand over her forehead as a visor, partly to avoid the stares she was still receiving.

Vivian dramatically threw her hands up again, making her makeup smeared napkin lift up in the air as well. "Of course this is about _breakfast_! What else—"

The waiter came back to the table, placing a tall glass of water in front of Vivian, who shut her mouth as he did so.

Vivian gave the young man a fake smile as he grimaced in return, before sheepishly making an exit. Her palms flat against the linen covered table, Vivian leaned forward towards Morgana. "Darn tootin' this is about that horrific breakfast," Vivian murmured bringing her tone down to a normal level. "Did that sound anything like Arthur to you?"

"People change."

"Yeah; for the worse. He was spouting rhetoric which was just…shameful! That temptress of a maid must have him wrapped around her little black finger, for him to be sayin' such things," Vivian scoffed.

"It certainly is hard to change Arthur's mind 'bout something, so this transformation is…impressive in the least," Morgana sighed heavily, dropping her hands back into her lap. "They do say that love can mess with your mind that way…."

"Love!" Vivian nearly croaked.

"Did I stutter?" Morgana asked, quickly tiring of the drama.

Vivian rested her elbow upon the table with a loud thump, pointing her index finger at Morgana. "Not too long ago,_ you _were sayin' that this entire fling would just blow over! That it was a simple case of curiosity, which _may_ have evolved into…some sort of warped attachment. He's just gettin' his kicks in with a colored girl while he can; every man goes through_ that_ phase."

Morgana took a sip of her drink, as she thought of a way to phrase her next words which wouldn't throw Vivian in hysteria. "This sure is one long phase..."

Vivian shrugged. "The girl is pretty. It's disgusting, but I understand."

Morgana set down her glass abruptly. "Listen to me: you and I both know that this is more than a phase. If you wanna keep on kidding yourself…well, go do it with somebody else." Morgana rubbed her forehead, momentarily closing her eyes. "As insensible as it is—as much as it leave a bad taste in my mouth even talking 'bout it—those two _have to_ love each other. We both know that Arthur wouldn't stick his neck out the way he has for some casual lay. No…Gwen's more than a tramp to him."

"I don't wanna believe it," Vivian said stubbornly. "It's a phase. That aint true."

"It is," Morgana said, tired of repeating herself.

"It's _not_!" Vivian growled, holding the end of the white tablecloth in a death grip.

"It is! It's high time that you jumped down from your dream world, and faced the cold hard truth! Don't you realize how long all of this has gone on for? People have fallen in love in much less time before. He's keeping her around for a reason, and I don't think it's just for sex."

Vivian looked down at her lap.

"Listen Viv," Morgana said softly, "I know you still got eyes for Arthur, but…"

"But what?" Vivian snapped.

"I understand where you're coming from; he's broken your heart more than once—"

Vivian pointed at Morgana aggressively. "You have no idea where I'm coming from, Morgana."

"I do. I—"

"You're not the one who has to sit in the same classes with Arthur day after day, knowing that he'd rather be with a colored maid over yourself. You don't have to wait around wondering if he'll ever love you again. You didn't have to sit there this morning, and listen to him defend his pretty little maid! Favor her kind to my face!" Vivian hissed pointing to her chest. "You don't know what it feels like to wanna claw off the smile that Gwen is always wearing. No, Morgana, there's a difference here. I hate that girl; you don't—can't."

Morgana took a deep breath, as she took a moment to try and empathize with Vivian. "I know this can't be easy. Being forced to remain silent when you know such a thing is going on with someone you care about."

Vivian nodded, taking another sip of her cold water.

"But I have just as much at stake."

"Spare me the 'family honor' speech," Vivian grumbled. "I've heard it more than enough."

"It's not just a speech, it's true; it has substance" Morgana looked around the restaurant, before leaning towards Vivian. "You and I both know that white men and colored girls have fooled around since the beginning of Creation."

"Thanks for remindin' me…" Vivian said with a roll of her light eyes.

"But it's different with Arthur: he's _somebody_. If the wrong people find out about this—God forbid it's made public," Morgana had to pause for a deep breath at the thought alone. "Just think about it: this morning we're reading 'bout how the Tates were being so harassed they had to leave that state…well that could be the Pendragons on that cover page one day! And I don't know about you Vivian—but I like being able to go out into public, without having people whisper and gossip behind my back. I like my home, and I'm not gonna be run outta town like the Tates because Arthur and Gwen can't control themselves; no siree. I will_ not_ be a Mary Tate," Morgana jabbed at the table with her index finger, to emphasize her last words. "Over my dead body will Arthur drag our name through the dirt. And for what? For a maid? For a girl who cleans his damned_ toilets _for a living? Even if she were white, it'd be an embarrassment." Morgana took a deep breath, as she felt the vein in the side of her neck begin to throb, and her cheeks become hot. "So you see…we both got things to lose. We both will suffer lasting consequences. That's why we can't fall into hysterics, and lose our heads. We have to keep clear minds; stay two steps in front of these love birds."

"Well we've done a pretty bang up job so far."

Morgana's eyes narrowed at the insult.

"First, we tried keeping an eye on them, positive that everything would run it's course. When we realized we could be waiting 'til Armageddon for that to happen, we tried—succeeded—in getting Gwen into nursing school, only to have that pasty bean-pole ruin everything! One phone call," Vivian said holding up her index finger in the air, shaking it in fury. "One phone call is all it takes to ruin everything. We were so close—I was fixin' to pack up Gwen's bags myself, I was so excited. Then, 'poof'," Vivian said with a snap of her fingers, "Merlin figures it out by being a nasty little snoop, pretends to be your damn 'secretary', and now there's someone else going to school in Gwen's place." Vivian shook her head, pushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face. "Nothing has worked so far. Nothing at all."

"What I would do if I had a go at that idiot admissions officer. Ineptitude: that's the only good word for it."

"Amen to that!" Vivian took another sip of her water. "So what are we going to do 'bout Merlin, then? _He's_ been the one two steps ahead of everything; he's outsmarted us at every turn, Morgana. _Us,_ duped by him! Ha! I never thought I'd see the day!" Vivian declared emitting a laugh which was devoid of any joy.

Morgana sighed, as she leaned back into her chair. "Who knew that our quiet little friend could b so crafty and ruthless? It almost calls for admiration."

"Speak for yourself; that boy is most definitely _not_ my friend. He's a sneaky little snake, who likes to stick his nose where it don't belong. I don't even understand why he's doing all of this. Everything that's gone wrong—it's been 'cause Merlin."

Morgana stroked her chin pensively. "That's a mighty good question. But I think he's convinced that if Arthur's happy, he ought to support it—whatever it is. And that no foul has been done because Gwen is a 'good person'."

Vivian rudely snorted. "A 'good person': that don't mean nothin'."

"It means very little if she's colored," Morgana agreed, "and a maid."

Vivian nodded in complete approval. "So…what's our next move, then? What are you gonna do with Merlin? And more importantly, what's next with Gwen and Arthur?"

Morgana looked down at her chipped red nail polish as she frowned. She was unable to look Vivian in her expectant eyes as she muttered: "I've been praying 'bout it…but so far I've got nothing."

* * *

><p>Arthur pressed his ear against the wall separating the lively kitchen and desolate dining room. He had planned to saunter into the kitchen for a cup of sweet tea, but paused as he heard Alice cackling away, and Marge's raised voice which was increased to a higher pitch, obviously in mockery.<p>

"Yes, I'd like my eggs with a soft middle, and oh, don't make the bacon too rubbery, or burn the toast. And I'd like everything on a golden platter."

"Marge, quit playin' girl!" Alice exclaimed through laughter.

"I don't know who that girl thinks she is! Comin' in here like the damn Queen of England or somethin', ordering me 'round like she run the whole place. Well she aint the lady of the house yet; not 'til she's got a ring 'round her white finger," Marge huffed.

"It'll only be a matter of time. You just watch and see: as soon as Arthur's through with college, they'll be married."

Arthur resisted the urge to stick out his tongue in revulsion.

"And then I'd have to put up with her every day?"

"I guess so!" Alice said, laughing once again.

"The pay aint high enough to put up with the likes of her."

"I know that's right," Alice agreed.

Arthur listened to the lull in the conversation, and he decided that it was time to make his presence known. After a gentle clearing of his throat, he strode into the kitchen, obviously startling the two women who froze in their places. Alice's hand rested on the refrigerator, while Marge had her arms stretched over the counter with a cleaning rag.

"Good afternoon Mister Arthur," the two women said in unison.

Arthur greeted them silently with a smile.

"Do you want anything, sir? Or are you looking for Miss Stella?" Alice asked.

"No," Arthur said looking at Marge who avoided his gaze, "I came here for some sweet tea, actually."

Alice smiled, as she opened the fridge. "Well I'll be: I just fixed a new batch," she said pulling out the glass pitcher. "It's awfully sweet, and I put your lemon wedges in there—"

"Just how I like it," Arthur interrupted, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction.

Alice turned to take down a glass which was stored in one of the many cupboards. "After years all these years, I better know how to fix it right."

"And you always do." Arthur watched the woman pour the sweet brown drink into the glass, and the lemon wedges drop to the bottom. "You know all of you take such good care of me, and I've never said 'thanks'."

Alice waved her hand dismissively. "Aww, shucks. You don't have to—"

"No, I do, I do! Alice," Arthur said kindly, making the maid pause and look him in the eye. "I may have a couple of cavities to blame on your sweet tea; but they're well worth it! And you starch and iron my shirts for the office like a downright professional, and mend everything with a beautiful smile; I wouldn't trade you for any tailor in the world."

Alice grinned with pride.

"And Marge…how can I forget you?" Arthur asked, looking at the woman who stood at the opposite end of the kitchen.

"Me?" Marge asked with raised brow, pointing to her chest in puzzlement.

Arthur took a ship of his tea, taking a moment to savor the syrupy goodness. "Yes, what would I do without someone always poking their nose where it doesn't belong?"

Marge's eyes slowly widened, as her superior continued.

"I mean, without your flapping lips, I would've gotten away with so many things: just think about all the pickles you've gotten me out of—or is it put me in? Yup, yup, yup. I can always rely on your sharp eyes (which seem to see everything), and deep sense of _integrity_. You're a real God sent: I don't know anyone who cares 'bout what I do more than you!"

Alice, who stood next to Arthur, had to remind herself to close her mouth before she began to drool. She looked at Marge who nervously bit down on her bottom lip.

Arthur waved his finger, as if he remembered something. "You know what Marge? Seen as you care 'bout my life so much, I think I'll return the generous favor. Yeah, maybe I'll begin noticing how you're always twenty minutes late for work…oh; I should make a mental note to tell my father that. I should _probably_ tell Stella how you always cut corners when you're cleaning: maybe Stella oughta know 'bout those bed sheets you were supposed to be changing, and the rooms you were supposed to be sweeping…" Arthur took a long sip of his drink, never taking his eyes off of Marge, who appeared to be trembling. _Yes! I've finally shut her up!_ "I know, I understand, really I do: some people just come outta their mama's womb gossiping, and they just can't help themselves. Aint that right Alice?"

Alice nodded quickly and rapidly.

"Well," Arthur said looking back at Marge, "if I conclude that you're one of those types, if I see you minding everyone's business but your own…well, let's just say you'll be a jobless gossip." Arthur let his words resonate for a moment, before he lifted his glass up in Alice's direction. "Thanks for the sweet tea, Alice; it's Heaven as usual." And like he had just been talking about the good weather, Arthur spun on his heels, whistling a tune, just barely hearing Alice cluck her tongue.

"Oohhh, girl! I done told you a long time ago, this would happen! Didn't I tell your loose-lipped self?"

Arthur couldn't help but smile at the comment as he took a generous gulp of his tea.

* * *

><p>Arthur fumbled around in the dark for his cigarette carton, fully reclining in his chair once he managed to pull a cigarette loose. He quickly lit it, looking down at the embers of his glow as he inhaled. He kicked up feet to the foot rest which was in front of him, sighing as he looked up at the fool moon which was flanked by a few wispy clouds. The stars framed the moon as well, appearing to be dots of white glitter in the black sky. Arthur thought of Guinevere when he looked up at the stars, and he thought of the how she would tell him about the constellations, and point out the planets which could be seen with the naked eye. If they were ever together at night time, she would force him to stop, and take a moment to appreciate the splendorof the night sky…<p>

"_Isn't it just beautiful, Arthur? It's like God took a big ol' paintbrush, and decided to light up the sky just for us. You never know: He coulda been thinking of you when He was painting the Big Dipper, you know…"_

_Arthur squeezed Gwen's hand affectionately, as he smiled at her looking up at the stars, the moonlight shining on one side of her face which soaked up the sight with a child like simplicity. He wanted that. "Do I remind you of a spoon, Guinevere?"_

_Gwen looked back at Arthur, before playfully rolling her eyes, scooting closer to Arthur, sure not to scrunch up the blanket they were laying on. "You know what I mean," she said resting backward onto his chest. _

_Arthur happily sighed as he caught a whiff of Gwen's lavender shampoo and her soft curly hair tickled his chin. He wrapped his arms around her securely, as he too looked up. "You don't think this is cheesy, do you?"_

"_Cheesy?"_

"_Yeah, I mean me bringing you here at night time to look at the stars, and curl up with each other, and talk. It's like out of one of them Harlequin novels, or whatever they're called."_

_Gwen laughed, causing a gentle vibration against his chest. "It's not cheesy Arthur, its sweet."_

"_Aint that the same thing?"_

"_No, it's not the same thing. How many times do I have to tell you that you're a hopeless romantic? You just don't want to admit it."_

"_I don't know I should take that as a compliment…"_

_Gwen turned around to face Arthur with a bright smile. "Well it was, and it's true."_

_Arthur rested his hands on Gwen's hips, giving her a sweet kiss on her cheek. "As long as you're happy, I'll be as cheesy as you want."_

"_I like the sound of that—"_

"Arthur?"

Arthur quickly turned in his chair as he heard his sliding door to his balcony open, and his father stepped out of his dark bedroom.

"Why is it so dark in your room, Arthur?" Uther asked, sliding the door closed.

"I don't know."

"Well…what are you doing out here, son?"

"Just thinking, having a smoke…or two…."

Uther stayed by the door. "Oh, okay." Uther rested a hand on his hips, looking up at the few clouds. "Do you reckon this winter's going to be short?"

Arthur looked up at the mostly clear sky. "Yup, sure do."

Uther sighed, sitting in the vacant seat next to Arthur. He pointed towards the cigarette carton which sat on Arthur's lap. "I thought you quit?"

Arthur too looked down at the carton too, letting the cigarette dangle between his lips as he shrugged nonchalantly. "Now's a good time for a smoke."

"I agree. Are those a good brand?"

"Yeah, straight from the fields of Virginia. You want one?"

"Don't mind if I do, actually."

Arthur took another out from his ever shrinking carton, handing it to his father, before lighting it.

"Tough day?" Uther asked his son, as he too reclined in his chair.

Arthur exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I guess, what 'bout you?"

"Well, business called, and I needed to take care of it."

Arthur turned his head. "Everything alright?"

Uther too exhaled, waving his hand dismissively. "Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

"Oh," Arthur said, turning back around.

There was a brief period of silence, which was broken by the clearing of Uther's throat. "So, I heard about last night. I was awfully surprised to hear it, too; you haven't pulled something like this in a while."

"I went to meet up with some classmates, and it got a little out of hand. It was stupid, I know."

"And Merlin had to bail you out."

"Like he always does."

"You're one lucky young man: I don't know how many friends I have who would come wheel me out of a bar."

"I'm fortunate, I won't argue."

"So…is drinking something I need to worry about…again?"

"No, not at all. I was being…childish. It won't happen again. I felt like total shit afterward too. I was knocking back that scotch without a second though."

Uther laughed. "You never could hold liquor well."

"I sure as hell tried, though."

Uther chuckled once more, pausing to flick off some gray ashes, which went flying in the soft yet crisp breeze. "What about the maid? I heard about her too."

"There's nothing to say there. She's a good maid. Merlin was taking me to his car when we ran into her. She wanted to help, so she did. The end."

With cigarette between his lips, Uther turned to Arthur, and Arthur did the same. "Let's talk man to man here: am I going to get a surprise in nine months time?"

"No sir, I reckon you won't."

Uther's eyes narrowed, as he evaluated his son's reaction. "You don't sound too sure. Listen, I'm not mad son. I'm more than familiar with the temptation of attractive maids—you're a man with a happy appetite. I understand."

Arthur cringed at his father's words. "Temptation though it may be, nothing happened. "Merlin was there the entire time. And even if I wanted to—I was passed out the moment my head hit the pillow, and I could hardly walk straight when I finally did wake up. I had no energy to do anything, and that's the truth."

Uther looked at his son silently for a few more moment before nodding. "I believe you."

Arthur turned away from his father, laying back in his chair as he inhaled.

Uther sighed, flicking away some more ashes. "I'm thinking we should fire her any way, just to be safe."

Arthur's eye widened as his father's statement registered, and he quickly put his cigarette out. "You can't fire her, in won't be necessary."

Uther exhaled a cloud of smoke one more time, before he too crushed out his cigarette in the glass ash tray. "And why not? I'd rather avoid any scandal by getting rid of her—or perhaps any temptation—which you admitted."

Arthur mentally slapped himself. "I didn't mean it when I said that: there's no temptation at all."

"Not yet there isn't…but I've seen this happen more than once. You'll see this is for the best. Anyhow, I hear that Vivian's family is hiring." Uther took his feet off of the foot rest, preparing to stand, before he felt Arthur's arm wrapped around his bicep. "Arthur…"

"I'll never do it again. Nothing like this will ever happen, ever. I won't get drunk; I won't be alone with her—"

"What's done is done," Uther said shaking off his son's hand. "I don't see why you're reacting so. She's just a maid; we've been through dozens. Anyhow, I'm just tying up loose ends."

"There are no loose ends to tie. Guinevere is a good staff member, and she's done nothing wrong here. It's been all me. Punish me, not her for doing her job."

Uther's eyes narrowed, as he tilted his head to the side. "Pardon, but did I miss something, here?"

Arthur too looked confused.

"Since when have you cared about any maid—besides Stella?"

"Guinevere and Stella are close, so I've gotten to know Gwen a little. She's a good person with a family who depends on her."

Uther frowned tightly. "Does she have children?"

Arthur caught a glimpse of his father's momentary weakness. "No, but she has…sick grandparents! They're home bound, and he doesn't work on the week end because she's caring for them."

Uther tilted his head, his face softening slightly. "Really?"

"And her Dad has back problems—" _Hey, that part is true!_ "So he may not be able to work for much longer. She is the primary source of income, and many people rely on her. I understand your reasons for doing this, and you always have logical reasoning behind your decisions—"

"Don't try and butter me up, Arthur."

"But just know that if you fire her—for helping me, and doing what any saint would do—you're impacting a whole bunch of people. I don't think it's fair to punish a kind heart." Arthur held his breath after he finished his plea, waiting his father's response.

Uther raised his eye brows, crossing his arms over his chest. "That was quite a case you made. It's not too late for law school," he joked.

Arthur didn't laugh.

"Alright, I guess I see your point Arthur. No harm has been done. We do have a devoted staff, and I know any one of them would've done what she did."

Arthur let go of his breath, as he smiled widely. "You're right."

Uther stroked his chin. "Alright," he said with a solid nod. "But!" Uther added as an afterthought. "Hear me well Arthur Lewis Pendragon: if anything like this happens again, if you go and get drunk and make a fool of yourself and this family; there won't be anything calm about that conversation."

"I hear you loud and clear. Thanks for understanding."

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired by: "Studying Politics" by Emery<em>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** See! Uther's really just a big softie…sort of like his son. You know, I always liked Uther on the show, so I don't have the heart to make him a _total _bad guy. Now go add me to your Alert/Favorites, and leave a review!


	30. Chapter 30

_Yes: I'm still breathing. No: I haven't quit writing MLMS; after much delay, here's chapter 30! I hope you all enjoy it, I had lots of fun writing these scenes. We've got a couple of new/semi-new characters, who are sure to shake some things up! There is ARWEN, and next week's will be like all ARWEN, but I just had to set a couple of things up; be patient, lovely readers._

_Just a reminder that this story takes place in 1954-1955—in the "Bible Belt". So some of you may be perplexed, or maybe even disturbed by the first scene, but I ask that you remember the ideals of the American people on a whole before the quote on quote sexual revolution, and the mayhem of the '60s and '70s. (I need not say more; you all are smart, and I think you'll understand)._

_Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's not as melancholy as the rest; a nice respite from the drama, I hope. Add me to your favorites, and don't forget to leave a review, telling me what you thought (I'm curious to see how you feel about the first scene: I think you all know that I love to push the envelope…it adds spice to life)._

_**P.S.:**__ For those diligent readers who wonder where exactly "MLMS" takes place, I give you a big hint after the first scene, so it's up to you to figure it out…_

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><p><strong>Chapter 30: The Drug In Me Is You<strong>

Gwen looked down at the frayed piece of paper, which was now crumpled from her fidgeting hands which were toying with it on the thirty minute bus ride over to her present location.

"House number 206…I guess this is it, then," Gwen said to herself with a grimace as she looked up at the small yellow brick house, which had a large white porch and a peculiar amount of windows. The only thing stopping her from approaching the humble abode was a small white picket fence (which needed another coat of paint) which surrounded a tidy garden. "Excuse me ma'am!" Gwen called out to a woman who was about to pass her on the sidewalk.

The woman, who looked to be in her late teens, quickly stopped and turned, holding a sleeping baby in her arms. "Yeah?"

Gwen cleared her throat, pointing towards the small yellow house. "Is this here…" her voice trailed off as she looked down at her paper, "Bobby Jones' house, ma'am?"

"Yes'm it, sure is." The young woman's eyes narrowed, as she gave Gwen a once over, her lip slightly curling. "Yup…that's Bobby's house alright." The young woman swiftly turned, walking away from Gwen faster than she had come.

Gwen tilted her head in confusion at the peculiar response, before she called after the woman: "Thanks!"

The woman only turned her head, clutching her baby closer to her chest. "Mhmm."

Gwen turned back to the house, pushing her hair out of her face with determination. She was finally going to do it; she was going to see Elliot. Gwen walked up the paved entrance way, took the steps to the porch, and paused one last time before knocking on the door, whose white paint was peeling off. Gwen took a step back as she waited for an answer.

"Jay Jay! Go on and answer the door!"

Gwen's ears perked up as she heard her brother; the sound of his voice actually made her more nervous than she had been before.

"Nuh uh! You go get it, man!"

"Y'all, quit fussing; I'll get it!" A female voice yelled, adding herself to the mix of shouting.

Gwen's eyes narrowed in confusion as she heard the voice of a lady inside the house, only to widen to saucers when a tall and slim woman of her age answered the door. Her skin was darker than her own, but lighter than Elliot's, and it had a smooth and radiant shine, complimenting her curly jet black hair which fell to her shoulders. As she leaned on the door, waiting for Gwen to speak, her hazel eyes glistened in the sunlight, and it took Gwen a moment to recover.

"H-h-hi, I'm looking for Bobby Jones. Is this where he stays?"

The woman looked behind her, then gave Gwen a quick once over. "You got it confused, sugar. _I'm_ Bobbi Jones."

"…Huh?" Gwen said raising a brow.

The beautiful woman didn't bother asking Gwen for permission before she took the piece of paper from her hands, reading it for a moment, before throwing her head back in laughter. "Nah baby. It's Bobbi with an 'I'."

"Bobby…like with an 'I'? Like a woman?" Gwen rambled, knowing full well that she must've sounded like an idiot.

"Can I help you with anything, sugar?"

Gwen didn't mask her surprise as she took a step backward, clutching onto her purse. "Uh, uhmm…" She wasn't able to create a coherent thought.

Bobbi crossed her arms over her ample chest, giving the stuttering Gwen a suspicious once over, tilting her chin upward. " You aint a bill collector, are you?"

Gwen shoved the paper into her purse, taking a deep breath to collect her thoughts. "No ma'am, I'm Gwen Gibson, I'm—"

Bobbi smiled, showcasing perfectly straight and white teeth as she pushed herself off of the open door. "Well I'll be: you're Elliot's baby sister, aint ya?" The woman asked happily, her demeanor taking a total turn around. "Well aint it something to finally meet you? Elliot's done told me so much 'bout you and your papa—he brags on you all the time! Girl…" Bobbi trailed off, giving Gwen another look. "You're cute, but you're yellow. You sure you're Elliot's kin?""

Gwen had now hit a totally new level of confusion…who was this forward woman? Gwen ignored the remark on her skin tone, as she nervously cleared her throat. "Uhh, is Elliot inside? I came to see him."

"Yeah, come on in girl," Bobbi said waving her hand, as Gwen brushed past her. "I didn't mean to be rude you earlier: you're like family!"

_No, actually we're not…I don't even know you…_Gwen thought as she clutched her purse tightly, walking into the neat house with caution, taking a look around her surroundings. The house was very similar to her own; small and tidy, with a few pictures on the wall, with black and white photographs on top of the brick fire place.

"Babe!" Bobbi called out, cupping her hands around her mouth for projection, standing on her toes. "Come on out! You'll never guess: lil' sister is here!" Bobbi dropped her hands to her side, giving Gwen another smile.

_Babe? Can someone tell me what on earth is going on? Who is she calling 'babe'! Ohh….it better not be Elliot!_

"Who's that?" A man called out, making his presence known from the couch of the living room.

Bobbi rolled her eyes as she pointed to her brother, leaning her head over towards Gwen. "That's my lazy good for nothin' brother, Jay Jay."

Gwen gave him a quick wave, not particularly interested in the young man who was sprawled on the couch, listening to the radio.

Elliot finally made his way out of a bed room which appeared to be next to the tiny kitchen, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He stopped abruptly once he realized it was Gwen, tilting his head to the side in puzzlement. "Gwen?"

Gwen looked at Bobbi who was grinning ear to ear, then to Elliot. "Elliot. Glad to see you're still breathing," she said curtly.

"Gwen…" Elliot trailed off, scratching his head. "Wow, you're the last person I thought to see here."

"I went to your job, and they told me where you were staying, seen as Daddy refused to ask."

"Well, you found me," Elliot said with a nervous laugh, throwing his arms up with a shrug. "And I see you've met Bobbi."

Gwen turned to the girl, who was a good head taller than her, and Gwen's attention was caught on the extremely short shorts the girl was wearing, and tight tank top. _ She's not even decent in her own home? Lord…please help me. _Gwen cleared her throat again, not wanting her voice to sound too shaky. "Yeah, I have."

"I've told her all 'bout you."

"I feel like I know you already!" Bobbi added joyously.

Gwen didn't want to be ugly to the girl she hardly knew, but she couldn't help herself as she nearly turned her back to her, facing her brother alone. "I heard." _ Okay, I'm through with the small talk now._ "Elliot Marcus, can we talk—alone?"

Elliot sighed, running a hand over his face: whenever Gwen said his full name, she meant business. "Yeah, we can go out on the porch for a spell." Elliot looked at Bobbi who gave him a concerned look. "To catch up," he added, hoping to put her mind at ease.

Bobbi stepped out of the way to let the two siblings pass. "It was nice finally putting such a pretty face to the name, Gwen! You should join us for supper some time."

"I'd be glad too," Gwen said with a totally unconvincing smile and tone, as she stepped out of the house, and not a moment too soon.

Elliot closed the door behind him, turning to his sister who still had her arms folded over her chest. "You're angry, I can tell…"

"Your ability to read people is_ really_ special," Gwen scoffed sarcastically. "Do you know how long it's been since you've taken off?" Gwen didn't pause to let Elliot answer. "A week, seven whole days without a single word! Not even a phone call, to say that you were still alive! So yes, I'm very angry! Didn't you know I was worried sick over you? I surely thought after three days your point would've been made, and you would be home."

"It just never seemed like the right moment…to call."

Gwen rolled her eyes at her brothers sorry excuse for an excuse. "And who's that woman?" Gwen let out a whistle. "She's quite a looker, aint she?"

Elliot sighed, rubbing the back of his head, as he looked down at his feet. "C'mon Gwen, do I need to spell it out for you?"

Gwen began to tap her foot against the paint-chipped front porch. "So what? She's your girlfriend, or somethin'?"

"Yeah—something like that…"

Gwen snorted, as the rate of her foot tapping sped up. She waved her hand, encouraging Elliot to elaborate. "You got to do better than that, Elliot…"

"Well, her name is Bobbi, and she's been my girl for about—" Elliot's head tilted upward for a moment as he thought, "—I reckon four months, now."

"Four months!" Gwen yelled, before quickly snapping her mouth shut, and covering it with her hand. She spun on her heels, turning her back to Elliot. "Four months?" She repeated, this time hardly above a whisper. "And you haven't said a peep 'bout her?"

Elliot shrugged, rubbing his hands together nervously. "I didn't think y'all would like her…she's a free spirit. She aint like the other girls."

Guinevere spun back around with quickness. "Oh, I could definitely see_ that_. She was practically naked! Is that what you call a free spirit?"

"Stop exaggerating, and don't talk 'bout her like that. You don't even know her."

Gwen shook her head, letting out some air. "Ooohhh...Daddy's gonna wring your skinny black neck when he finds out you're living with your girlfriend!"

"Where else was I supposed to go?" Elliot burst out, opening his arms.

"No one made you leave in the first place, Elliot! You left us your own self."

"…Besides, I like it here—with her."

Gwen shook her head; she didn't even know where to begin. "I don't know what to say…I'm so shocked right now. I expected to come here and find you living with a bunch of your friends!" Gwen paused, looking down at her foot which was clicking away against the wood. "So, how many people are living up in this house, anyway?"

"Bobbi's brother; Jay Jay, Bobbi, and me."

Gwen covered her eyes, hanging her head. "I know I'm not gonna like this answer…but how many bedrooms are up in there?" Gwen asked pointing over her shoulder. After a pause Gwen added, "don't think too hard, now."

Elliot crossed his arm over his broad chest. "Two."

"And I reckon you're not taking up on the couch, are you…?"

Elliot rolled his eyes. "For crying out loud! Quit beating 'round the bush, and just say what's on your mind, huh, Gwen?"

"So, not only are you living with this woman—who you're not married to, and who I've never even _met_—but you're sharing her bed too?"

Elliot rolled his eyes for a second time. "Did you bring your Bible with you too, Gwen?"

Gwen physically flinched backward. "Is that comment supposed to make me feel guilty?"

"You're raving on like I'm out murdering folk."

"I'd say this is pretty on high up of the low down thing a person can do, too."

"Right, if you just came here to judge me, then you can up and leave." Elliot nodded to his sister, as he walked to the front door, resting his hand on the rusting door knob, before pausing.

"Sweet baby Jesus…Papa is gonna stroke out when he hears that you're living with this woman!"

"Quit callin' her that! Her name is Bobbi! And you aint gonna say nothin' to Pop, I _guarantee _it."

Gwen's foot ceased in its movement. "And why not?"

"If you tell Pop 'bout Bobbi, then I'll tell him 'bout your little white boy! I swear on the Good Book I'll do it—I'll sing like a canary, and I won't think twice 'bout it!" Elliot threatened with all of his vigor, pointing at his sister to make sure his point got across. When he saw her recoil, he knew that his message had resonated. He continued, with his mouth in a straight line. "So go on then—rat me out, and tell Pop 'bout Bobbi: but know that your dirty little secret will be out too." Elliot paused for dramatic effect, as he watched his sister's light brown eyes widen with each word. Elliot wasn't aware that he was grinning as he continued to help Gwen weigh her options. "Now who do you think he'll be madder at? Yeah…you think on that one for a minute, Gwen."

Gwen opened her mouth for a retort, before she shut it quickly as she experienced a brief revulsion at Elliot's blatant smugness. But he had her cornered and judging by his grin and nodding, he sure knew it. "So you've reduced yourself to black mailing me? Threatening your own flesh in blood?"

Elliot shrugged. "I guess that we both got our secrets, don't we? If you wanna sell me out—then what's stopping me from doing the same?"

Gwen literally flinched at Elliot's callous words. "Elliot, I'm not the one who's doing the wrong thing, here."

"Neither am I!"

"Yes you are! Fooling around with some woman; living like y'all are married—it's sin! I'm trying to—"

"Keep it down! I don't want the whole city to know my business!" Elliot hissed, waving his arms to stop his sister.

"Oh, so now you got some shame?"

Elliot clucked his tongue as he waved his hand dismissively. "Well I'm sorry Gwen, that I can't be a perfect little angel like you, running 'round town with a perfect little _white_ halo," Elliot said with a scoff.

"I don't pretend to be an angel Elliot. And I surely didn't come here to judge you, but I wasn't prepared for—" Gwen waved her arms around, motioning towards the yellow house and to Elliot at the same time, "—for all of this!"

"Yeah, right," Elliot said with a snort. "And you wanna talk 'bout shame? Well you're going 'round Pop's back too, but you're with the enemy. At least I got enough dignity to stick with my own."

Gwen moved in closer to her brother, her voice a deadly whisper. "But I'm not out there sleeping with him—there's a difference."

"You may as well be; you've already sold yourself."

"Elliot, stop it, just stop it!" Gwen said waving her hands in frustration. "Leave Arthur out of this! He has nothing to do with _you_ and_ your_ life!"

"You know one rich white boy; you know 'em all. So don't climb up on your little pedestal when you and I are like peas and carrots."

"Your situation and mine are _hardly_ similar!"

"Don't rag on me for doing 'the wrong thing', when you yourself aren't honest with Pop. We're paddling in the same boat—you just don't wanna admit it."

"If Daddy ever found out 'bout Arthur— he'd kill us both, and dig us shallow graves. I don't hide Arthur 'cause it's wrong—it's 'cause I'm surrounded by a town of ignorant bigoted buffoons—animals who run 'round like it's the Wild Wild West, lynching folk, and burning down their homes. What I—we have isn't wrong—we're just in the wrong place. So don't even begin to compare you and Bobbi to me and Arthur, just quit it!" After Gwen had finished venting, she found herself breathing heavily, causing a strand of hair to fall into her face."

Elliot looked at his sister, tilting his head to the side, stifling a yawn.

"Sorry, am I boring you?" Gwen asked.

"I've heard it all before: y'all are in love, you didn't ask for him, he's a good guy underneath it all—yadda, yadda, yadda," Elliot said rolling his eyes. "It didn't mean a damn thing then, and it sure don't now. The only reason I didn't tell Pop in the first place was 'cause I panicked, and I figured you and your white boy would be through by now. But I'm thinking 'bout my future, and it's with Bobbi. It's high time you think of your too—take a page out of _my _book, for a change.

Gwen's eyes narrowed, this time not in anger, but in acute sadness. Her brother sounded empty; like a shell of himself, and it terrified her. "I don't want a page out of your book, if this is what it does to a person."

"Right, 'cause you're already perfect—I forgot."

Gwen shook her head, looking towards the side walk. "I came here to see how you were, not to fight, and maybe even convince you to come home. But you just want to argue, and it's clear you'd rather live with that—Bobbi—than be with your family. So I have nothing left to say. You know where to find me when you actually care." Gwen gave her brother one last look before clutching her purse to her side, and moving as quickly as her short legs could take her as far as way from that little yellow house.

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><p><em>Guinevere,<em>

_Who knew that two days could seem like an eternity? And what is the worst is that I have yet another four left here in Columbia; another 120 hours, and they couldn't be dragging by any slower._

_I'm sorry I left without saying good bye; Father had picked me up in the middle of the day on Monday, and next thing I know, we were on a jet plane to the state's capitol. He conveniently failed to tell me that the meetings and proceeding would last for __**6 **__days! Six whole days of conversations and deliberations about the most boring things ever known to man: taxes and regulations. Please drive down here, and save me, Gwen._

Gwen laughed out loud as she crossed her legs, squirming a little against the bench to get comfortable. She smiled as she continued to read Arthur's warm words, scribed out with obvious care, for his normally messy handwriting was legible. That made her grin even wider.

_But…I guess that's why I'm here, then. Father said that it was high time I learned first-hand how business and politics sleep together—I wish I hadn't. Lobbyist and politicians are perhaps the dullest people on the face of this planet, and I'd never want to end up like one of them. I'm half bored to death, and when I feel like falling asleep during the day's fourth meeting, I think of you. That wakes me up._

_So, I think it's safe to say that I've been thinking of you often, Guinevere. I wish that you were here with me, and I wasn't here alone in a penthouse, while Father is away, rubbing elbows at another dinner party. I'm sick of business dinners, and my head is filled with new policies and new names of people who I've just met. It's overwhelming, and I wish you were here to help me; you were always better at names than me._

_If all goes as planned, I'll see your beautiful face this coming Sunday. We'll do something special when I get back, I promise. I know I've been saying that for a while…But it'll be like old times: just plain "Gwen and Arthur" time, before everything got messy and complicated. I miss those days so much —I miss you. _

_Save a kiss for me…or two…_

_Arthur_

_P.S.: I bought you something very special…but you may have to wait a while to open it…_

Gwen folded the letter, which she had read nearly five times since she had received it earlier that day. When Arthur was romantic and open, it made her melt into a puddle of total adoration. Her shoulders slumped when she realized that it was only Thursday, and there'd be three more Arthur-less days. She hadn't seen him since last Saturday after he took and home, and that Monday he left for Columbia. It had seemed like an eternity since that time. Gwen had been trying to busy herself as much as possible to keep her mind off of Elliot and Arthur's absence, and in an attempt to avoid Lorenzo. So far, everything was going according to plan—sort of. She still missed Arthur, and she nearly started jumping for joy when she opened his letter earlier in the day. He didn't put a return dress on the envelope, of course. As far as Elliot went…she worried about him nearly every minute, and no amount of busy-work would change that any time soon. And Lorenzo…well, that was working. After she had dodged him last Sunday, he hadn't been back around, nor had she been near his grocery store, or anywhere else she knew he frequented.

Gwen sighed, rubbing her aching forehead as she reclined backward, until her head hit the top of the wooden bench. She knew she couldn't hide from Lorenzo forever, and that eventually, no matter how hard she tried, she'd have to confront him and tell him the truth: she was with Arthur and her mind was made up. She wished that she didn't have to—Lorenzo was never anything but good to her—but this wasn't fair anymore. Arthur was jealous and insecure because of a perceived 'Lorenzo threat', and Gwen acknowledged that Arthur was partially vindicated in his feelings. Lorenzo was patiently holding out for a hope which would never be, and some other woman deserved his love—someone who could reciprocate it in the ways which Gwen was totally unable. She was Arthur's. Though Lorenzo made sense—to everyone else he was the ideal—Lorenzo never did and never could hold a candle to Arthur Pendragon.

* * *

><p>"Vivian? Vivian darling are you—" Dorothy Remington paused as she began to gag and cough, covering her mouth with one hand and waving the other in the gray cloud of cigarette smoke which was aimed directly at her face. Dorothy stopped, gasping as she saw Vivian leaning on the outside of the garage smoking as she stared straight ahead with a blank expression. "Goodness gracious, put that devil-stick out—this instant!" Dorothy demanded, her usually gentle voice taking on an abrasive tone, as she watched her daughter silently obey. "Goodness me, what has gotten into you, hmm?"<p>

Vivian kept her head down, and her gaze on the now crumpled cigarette.

"Pick that up," Dorothy added, pointing at the butt. "Holy Toledo, your father would have a fit if he ever saw you puffing away on those things."

Vivian ran a hand through her blonde hair, after she put the cigarette butt into her pocket. "I know, I know."

"Forget your father. What have I always said, dear?"

Vivian sighed, resting a hand on her hip. "You've always said: 'Ladies don't smoke—'"

"—Only harlots and tramps," Dorothy finished for her daughter. "That's right." Dorothy paused, waiting to give her daughter another pearl of motherly wisdom, before she noticed that Vivian's eyes were slightly pink at the rims, and her cheeks flushed. "Pumpkin, is something bothering you?" Dorothy asked, her tone returning to that of the gentle and doting mother.

Vivian shrugged her shoulders, throwing her hair behind her shoulders. "Sorry 'bout smoking, Mama. I know you don't like it, and it's un-lady like."

Dorothy's face softened, as she heard the dejected tone of her daughter. "Sweet pea…you don't sound like you're in tip-top shape, darling." Dorothy took a step closer to her daughter, taking a closer look at her. "You've been crying, haven't you, Viv?"

"It's nothin', Mama," Vivian tried to assure her mother, quickly turning her head in the other direction. "I'm peachy keen, I promise."

"We can talk about it if you want, dear," Dorothy gently encouraged. "Remember when you used to tell your old mother everything? We'd sit and have a cup of hot cocoa and you'd spill the beans as soon as you could," Dorothy reminisced with a sweet laugh.

Vivian couldn't help but smile at all the good memories she had with her doting mother. "You'll find it stupid—petty, Mama. I'm nearly embarrassed."

"Nonsense, pumpkin! Why should you be embarrassed around me?"

Vivian shrugged, unsure of what to say.

"Anyhow, I know you darling—you can't keep things in for long. You burst first; you always do. So go on and get it off of your chest, I know you want to…"

Vivian sighed, slightly nodding at her mother's assessment.

Dorothy wrapped her arms around Vivian's small shoulders, rubbing them tenderly. "Oh honey," she said soothingly, as she coaxed Vivian back towards the house. "I can tell whatever it is, it's got you all stirred up. Let's go to the sun room—ahh, there, there—watch that step, sweet pea," Dorothy reminded Vivian, who followed her mother to the sun room, which was practically next to the garage. The two women sat on the light sofa, where Dorothy patted her daughter's thigh.

"Mama," Vivian began, looking down at her small manicured hands as she spoke, "do you think I'm… attractive, any?"

Dorothy was physically taken aback by the question. "V-V-Vivian, what sort of a foolish question is _that_? The Lord has never made a girl as beautiful or as talented as you, love, and I aint just saying that 'cause I'm your Mama. I thought you knew that?"

"Is that it, though? Is that all I am? How much is a pretty face _worth_, after all?"

"Vivian…I don't understand, speak plainly."

"Am I pathetic, Mama?" Vivian suddenly asked.

"Vivian Remington, you tell me where these ridiculous questions are coming from? What's _really_ on your mind?"

Vivian sighed, throwing her hands up in confusion. "I want to know if it's bad—unhealthy, to love someone, to be unable to let go of them, even when you know they don't love you back? I want to know if there's something wrong with me Mama!"

Dorothy leaned back, sighing as she watched her daughter stare at her hands in shame. "This is about that Pendragon boy isn't it?" She asked quietly.

"Of course Mama; I only have eyes for Arthur. But he doesn't want me, and I can't let go of him that easily. I think there's something wrong with me—oh, he's right, I am pathetic!"

"Oh honey, there's not a thing wrong with you. It's just our nature, us women. When we love somebody, we give them our all, and we don't give up 'til we absolutely have to. And there's nothing wrong with you—nothing at all, sweet pea."

"After it all, I'd still take him back in a heartbeat—Lord knows I would."

Dorothy rubbed her daughter's arm affectionately. "I know Viv, you have the biggest heart I ever did see."

"But that doesn't seem to matter. Not anymore, at least."

"There's someone else, isn't there?" Dorothy asked knowingly.

"Yes, and I just can't wrap my mind 'round it Mama," Vivian laughed. "Golly, if only you knew…then I think you could understand where I'm coming from even more."

"Do I know the girl?" Dorothy asked, her forehead creased in thought.

"Y—no. You don't."

"Hmm…" Dorothy said, stroking her chin. "Well if you're comparing yourself to this girl, you quit it. Right this instant; don't entertain the thought for a moment longer."

"But she has him, and I don't. I can't just forget_ that_."

"Vivian, I got a good feeling that you and Arthur will end up together. Y'all are just right for one another. And one day—one day soon, Arthur is gonna look around, and realize that you've been there all along, waiting for him. That's what men respect; loyalty."

"T-t-they do?"

"Of course! It's the only thing that lasts; loyalty and respect. Arthur's a sensible young man: he'll come around, eventually?"

"Maybe I just ought to become a cloistered nun, and forget about men all together."

Dorothy Remington burst out in laughter. "Darling, it aint over 'til the fat lady sings—" Dorothy pushed her earlobe forward, as if she were listening out for something in the distance. "Oh—nope, I don't hear her, not yet, anyhow. Even in what seems to be the most hopeless situation, there's always hope. You'll see, sweet pea." Dorothy leaned over, rubbing her daughters back affectionately. "You're a good girl Vivian. And if Arthur doesn't come around, then he was a fool to begin with. Then you brush your hands, move on, and find your real Prince Charming. You hear? There's someone out there for everyone, honey."

* * *

><p>"Clarence, slow down, slow down…" Arthur whispered, leaning over the car seat to whisper to his chauffer.<p>

Clarence gave his young boss a sideways glance, before looking back to the road. "Sir…why are you whispering?"

Arthur shook his head. "Sorry, just—" Arthur pointed to the sprawling Pendragon Estate which was just coming into view. "Wait, hold up Clarence: stop the car."

"Huh? Stop the car for what? The house is right—"

"Yeah, I know, I can_ see_ the house. Just," Arthur pushed up on his seat, trying to look around the landscape. "Go around the back way, or somethin'."

"The way around the pool and tennis courts?" Clarence looked at the main gate which he was nearing, slowing the car down just a tad. "But, what's wrong with—"

"Clarence, I know the way into my own damn house!" Arthur finally snapped, causing the mild-mannered chauffer to flinch. "Just do as I say…I want to surprise Stella, and if she sees me coming in the front way, it'll be ruined. Get it?"

Clarence smiled, his discomfort dissipating as he smiled at Arthur's sentiment. "Oh, gotcha. Alright, let me turn this girl 'round," Clarence agreed, completely turning the wheel. "I reckon Stella is gonna be right surprised. I'm sure she missed you somethin' fierce."

"She probably worried over me more than anything."

"Isn't that what all women do—worry?"

Arthur chuckled, pulling at his silk tie, and undid the top button to his collar.

"So how long is your Papa supposed to stay down there?"

"We were both supposed to stay until Sunday, but Father said I could come back a couple of days earlier, because the only thing left were dry political proceedings—and I thank God for it! I swear Clarence, if dying of boredom is possible; I was at death's door."

The driver chuckled at his passenger's humor. "Should I park here, sir?" Clarence asked, pulling up to the employee entrance of the estate.

"Yeah, perfect." Arthur hardly waited long enough for the car to stop moving, before he undid his seat belt and shot out of the car faster than a speeding bullet, looking over his shoulder to add: "Clarence, just bring my bags in, and set them by the steps."

Arthur stopped at one of the back entrances to his home; the one which opened into the back hallway behind the kitchen. Slowly and quietly he opened the door, stepping into the empty hallway where the sounds of female laughter and chattering from the kitchen greeted him. The familiar sounds and aromas of the kitchen reminded him just how good it was to be home. Grinning from ear to ear, and nearly tiptoeing, Arthur walked against the wall, the words of the three cooks becoming louder and more distinct.

"Marge, quit your yapping, and pass me the butter, girl."

"Hold up y'all, I just got_ one_ more thing to say."

Alice and Stella both laughed knowing that Marge never just had one thing to say at a time.

"What's it now?"

"Have y'all heard 'bout Eunice May?" Marge asked, clucking her tongue.

"The pastor's niece? No, what 'bout her?"

"Poor girl; she's done been knocked up. Only a matter of time 'fore she starts showin'."

Stella gasped, as something clattered against the marble top counters. "What? Shut your mouth, and quit telling them lies!" Stella exclaimed.

"They aint lies! It's the truth! How come y'all haven't heard? _Everyone_ knows. Pastor Barr is scrambling to have her sent off to the country."

"And how do you know all of this?" Stella asked.

"Y'all know I got_ people_; I hear things through the grape vine."

"Mhmm, mhmm, what'd I tell y'all?" Alice said, joining the mix once again. "Didn't I tell you once she started hanging 'round that Jay Jay Jones this would happen?"

"You sure did…aint that somethin'?"

"…That boy's family aint never amounted to nothing, and never will; they just churn out trouble makers. I told my boy Jimmy: 'Jimmy, if I ever see you 'round that house, you'll get the whoopin' of your life'. And don't you know it: he aint been 'round there since."

Stella sucked her teeth. "Those two kids aint that bad. It's just gossiping hens like y'all who start rumors 'bout them."

"Now aint that a bold-faced lie? Decent folk don't go near that house, and it's 'cause Jay Jay Jones is a trouble maker, and his sister is a little whore—"

"Marge!" Stella and Alice exclaimed in unison, their voices rising an octave.

"What? Y'all were thinking it, I just said it!"

"You just need to shut your trap, talkin' 'bout things you don't know nothin' 'bout," Stella said, ending the conversation.

Arthur took the silence as his cue to step in, and he did so, taking a giant leap into the kitchen with wide arms. "Hey y'all! What's for dinner?"

All three of the women visibly flinched as Arthur suddenly appeared, with Alice and Marge covering their mouths as the jumped, and Stella resting a hand on her chest as she closed her eyes.

"Arthur? You aint supposed to be here 'til Sunday!" Alice was the quickest to recover.

"Does your daddy know you're here?" Stella asked suspiciously once she caught her breath.

Arthur stepped in to give Stella a hug. "He let me come early, I thought you'd be happy to see me," he added after Stella wrapped her arms around him.

"Of course I'm happy to see you. I just thought you'd run off, or something crazy like that," Stella said with a laugh. She threw up her arms as she looked at Arthur. "Well, look at you then? A three piece suit?"

Arthur looked down at the black vest he was wearing underneath his jacket. "Father insisted."

"I bet you had to beat the women off with a stick, lookin' like that!" Alice laughed.

Arthur smiled at her remark. "No, I'm afraid not."

"When was the last time you shaved, though; your beard's coming in," Stella said disapprovingly.

Arthur laughed as he realized that the only thing Stella cared about at the moment was his appearance. "I will Stella," he said rubbing his stubbly chin.

"So, how was Columbia? Did you meet all the hot shots? Did you meet the governor?

"I promise I'll tell you everything 'bout my trip, but I just gotta get out of these clothes first," Arthur said loosening his tie even further. "I'll be quick, I promise."

"Alright, you go on then."

Arthur nodded, waving at the three women before quickly rushing out of the kitchen, past the dining room, and through the living room into the foyer, where two maids where scrubbing the white tile clean. He stopped short, bending down a little to address the one nearest to him. "Where's Gwen Gibson?"

The maid looked at her coworker who was a couple of feet away from her. "Girl, you know where Gwen is? I only saw her at breakfast."

"I reckon she's in the washing room," the maid looked at her watch, before nodding in confirmation.

Arthur didn't wait around to thank the maids, before taking a running start in the opposite direction, only to lose his footing against the slick tile, throwing him backward. He was able to grab onto the railing of the stairs, only falling a little before the support saved him.

The two maids quickly stood, reaching out their wet hands towards their clumsy boss, stepping towards him. "Mr. Arthur, sir, are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Arthur said laughing at himself. "Don't worry about me, continue working; you're doing a great job, ladies." Arthur pushed himself off of the banister, taking more care the second time around. He kept his footsteps light as he walked down the hallway to the laundry room which was at the very end. First, he heard the hum of the washing machines going, and then he heard Gwen's singing which immediately caused him to smile. He peeked past the open door to find Gwen's back to him, folding clothes and setting them on the high wooden table. Her hair was up in a ponytail, which swayed side to side as she tapped her feet to the beat of the smooth and soulful song.

"There aint no kneeling in that land where I'm bound. I'm gonna walk, the streets of glory on that great day in the morning…" Gwen stopped singing, and began to hum the tune instead.

For once, Arthur was thankful that the washing machines were so noisy, and they masked whatever sound his footsteps may have created against the tiled floor. He held his breath as he stood a couple of feet behind Gwen, before quickly extending his arms, and covering her eyes with his large hands.

Gwen's immediate response was to gasp, as she dropped the shirt she was folding. "Wait…" She whispered, as her hands rose to rest atop of Arthur's, silently feeling them until she stopped at his knuckles. She laughed, her head tilting slightly backward. "Arthur!"

Arthur quickly dropped his hands to his side, smiling at Gwen whose eyes were wide and bright with surprise. Before he was able to actually speak and properly greet her, Gwen had nearly knocked the wind out of him, leaping forward and taking him hostage in a tight hug.

"Arthur! You're home early!" She exclaimed in disbelief, standing on her toes to give him a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Arthur played with one of the curls which had fallen out of Gwen's ponytail, their faces so close that their noses touched. "A week away from you was too long."

"I missed you so much, you have no idea. I got your letter, and I nearly cried," Gwen admitted into Arthur's chest.

Arthur slightly pulled away, keeping his hands on her hips. "Guinevere, you knew I was coming back."

"I know. It's just not the same without you here."

"Well, I'm back now," Arthur said looking at Gwen's eyes, before his own diverted momentarily southward.

"Arthur…"

"Hmm?" Arthur asked, his eyes slowly moving back up to meet Gwen's.

Gwen quickly looked down at her dress, only to find that the top button was undone. "Oh, c'mon Arthur!" She squealed, pushing him off, and turning around.

Arthur laughed at Gwen's reaction. "Sorry Guinevere," he said moving behind her, and wrapping his arms around her waist so they rested on her stomach.

"You didn't have to make it so obvious," Gwen said, resting her hands atop of Arthur's.

Arthur kissed her neck with a smile. "You're just too perfect Guinevere, can you blame me?"

"So you keep telling me…" Gwen quickly spun around to face Arthur, as she felt his hands moving from her waist. "Arthur, you just can't help yourself today, can you?" Gwen asked with a chuckle, playfully pushing his hands away.

Arthur answered with a rueful grin. "You see what you do to me? I told you: a week was too long."

Gwen giggled, as she took a step away from Arthur. "So that's it then? You're not gonna tell me anything 'bout your trip?"

Arthur sighed. "I went, I saw, I left. Alright—"

"Arthur!" Gwen put a hand on her hip, silently prompting Arthur to go on.

Arthur chuckled at the gesture, throwing his hands up as he chuckled. "There's literally_ nothing_ to tell! I went to lots of dinner parties, talked to politicians who all looked the same. I chummed it up with their wives and their daughters—"

Gwen raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Oh, did you now?"

Arthur shrugged. "That's it. I made it out alive…hardly. I hope your week was more exciting than mine."

Gwen sighed, as she moved over the pile of clothes which were on the table, pushing herself up to sit, letting her legs dangle over the side. "That's a way to put it," Gwen said, rubbing her eyes.

"Uh oh…that doesn't sound too good…" Arthur said, he too pushing himself up onto the table.

Gwen looked directly at Arthur as she spoke. "I swear I'm not pulling your leg, and all of this is true," Gwen began with a caveat.

"Just spit out Guinevere."

Gwen took a deep breath, shaking her head before she was able to begin. "So, not only is Elliot not back home yet—he has a girlfriend."

"Okay…so…?" Arthur paused, before quickly asking: "What, is she white, or something?"

"Ha! No; I think it's safe to say that'd never _ever_ happen."

"We both know better than to assume something like that…"

"No, she's colored, alright. She's beautiful—gorgeous even: tall, curvy, light eyes and long lashes, dark curly hair—"

"You make this sound like a bad thing!" Arthur said with a laugh.

"Anyhow, I finally found out where Elliot was staying; with some person named 'Bobby' Jones. Of course, I assumed that Elliot shacked up with a couple of his buddies from work, or from high school, but imagine my surprise, Arthur, when I find out that he's staying with his girlfriend whose name is Bobbi: with an '_I_'!"

All remnants of Arthur's smile quickly died. "Oh…"

"Elliot is living with his girlfriend, eating her food, sleeping in her bed—" Gwen paused, as she felt herself becoming hot. "Sick. That's the only word for it, Arthur. I couldn't get out of that house fast enough. Elliot has some nerve to claim that I'm running 'round, off shaming the family: well he's doing a pretty good job of it too!"

"Well, is the house nice, at least?"

Gwen sharply turned to Arthur, her light brown eyes narrowing to a glare. "Did you_ really_ just ask that?"

Arthur dropped Gwen's hand, holding his own up in defense. "Sorry: wrong question, wrong time. Right—has he been staying there the entire time?"

"I guess so; I don't know where else he'd go. Get this: he's been seeing Bobbi for the past four months, and this is the first time I've_ ever _even heard her name."

"I guess it's true: that life is a comedy," Arthur said with a chuckle, resting his hand on Gwen's thigh.

"Arthur, I don't see _anything _'funny' 'bout any of this," Gwen said through gritted teeth. "Are you just trying to get me upset, right now?"

"I mean, just think 'bout it: you and he are both in love, and hiding their 'other'. It's like—everything comes full circle, you know?"

Gwen didn't acknowledge the observation, as she just looked at Arthur.

"But you're upset, I know it. So I'll go on and shut up now…"

"Upset is not even the _beginning_, Arthur!" Gwen stopped as she realized she was yelling. "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout at you, I'm just really wound up. Elliot and I had it out good, and he tried to blackmail me. My own brother tried to threaten me into silence, I never woulda thought…He had the nerve to tell me that I can't tell Daddy 'bout him and Bobbi, 'cause if I do, he'll 'sing like a canary' about you and me."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "He'd do that?"

"I don't know…I'd like to think that he wouldn't…but he hasn't been himself lately. I don't know what's happening to him…maybe it's that girl. And to make things worse, her brother Jay Jay lives there too. It' a house of debauchery, I tell you. "

Arthur sat up straight, his ears perking up as he heard the name 'Jay Jay' for the second time that day. "You said their last name was Jones?"

Gwen could see the wheels of Arthur's mind turning on something. "Yeah…why?"

Arthur smiled, rubbing Gwen's thigh in assurance. "No reason, just wondering."

Gwen watched Arthur for another moment, before turning. "I'm worried about him, Arthur."

"Don't be. I'm sure he'll come back to the straight and narrow, you've just got to be patient."

"I think I'm running out of the stuff," Gwen admitted.

* * *

><p>Morgana splashed another handful of cold water onto her face, as she watched the translucent liquid swirl down the drain of the white ceramic sink in the first floor bathroom. She took a deep breath, placing her hands on either side of the oval sink, breathing deep and rhythmically. Slowly, she raised her head, looking upon her reflection in the spotless mirror, which seemed to mock her.<p>

Though she was pale to begin with, her skin looked clammy today, even verging on dull and gray; the sleepless nights were finally catching up with her. Between studying for exams and worrying about: Vivian, Arthur, Gwen, _and_ Merlin; she now had deep purple bags to show for her trouble. She ran a hand through her slightly wavy hair which fell limp down her back.

"This is what happens when you're worrying 'bout everyone else but yourself," she muttered, looking at her wrist, where a single black hair tie rested. Morgana separated her long hair into three thick sections, weaving them together until a braid formed falling onto her shoulder blade.

Morgana took another look at herself in the mirror, only realizing that there was a red stain on her green top, no doubt from lunch. She sighed heavily, grumbling as she opened the door, and continuing until she got to the washroom, where she heard laughing and giggling from the other side. Morgana stopped short, listening for a moment, before her head tilted to the side in confusion as she heard Arthur's deep rolling laughter. When did he get back?

When Morgana finally opened the door, she did so quickly, stepping into the room as soon as the door had opened wide enough. Arthur and Gwen sat next to each other, atop of the wooden table, with their legs dangling over the side, smiling and laughing with one another. Bu as soon as they saw Morgana they both quieted, sitting up straight, and scooting away from each other.

"You're home." Morgana said, after the two lovebirds had put distance between themselves.

Arthur looked at Gwen, then to his cousin. "Hey Morgana; Dad let me come home early."

Morgana stayed by the door, analyzing the two for a moment. There was no smeared lipstick, lopsided or inside out clothing, the room was in order…they had just been talking? The pair continued to perplex her to even greater levels day by day. "Well don't let my presence disturb y'all. Go on, and get back to…whatever you were doing," Morgana said with the wave of her hand.

Arthur and Gwen both hopped off of the table, as Morgana walked to the basket next to the washing machine which had dry clothes.

"I was just telling Guinevere 'bout my trip to Columbia," Arthur explained.

Morgana hovered over the basket, before turning her head to look at her cousin with a weak smile. "Oh, I'm sure you were."

"Are you looking for something, Morgana? I can help you," Gwen offered from behind Arthur.

"Nope, don't worry. I found it," Morgana said pulling out a blouse from the basket. Morgana smiled again. "I'll talk to y'all later, I've gotta go study." Morgana made her way to leave the room, as she heard Arthur whisper to Gwen.

"We'll talk later, okay?"

Within moments, Morgana could feel Arthur beside her, making equal stride. "So, talking 'bout Columbia, huh?" Morgana asked, looking down at her crisp and clean shirt.

"Yeah, Gwen was curious, she's never been there," Arthur said with a smile.

"Sure sounded like a lot of laughing and giggling to be talking 'bout a boring business trip."

"Ah, you know how Gwen is," Arthur explained with a shrug. "She finds joy in everything."

"It seems she finds joy in you especially, these days."

Arthur shrugged. "What can I say? I'm irresistible!"

Morgana nodded. "I used to think so, but now I'm not so sure," Morgana said with a smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean."

Morgana patted her cousin's back. "It seems you've lost some of your charm, dear cousin. I can't remember the last time I saw you with a girl—what, it's been seven months now?"

Arthur's lip curled. "You've been keeping track?"

"I was worried. I was so used to seeing a different gal on your arm every week."

"I was never that bad," Arthur muttered.

"Do you have any plans for the priesthood, I should know about?"

Arthur snorted, as he and his cousin began to walk together again. "No, I've just—I'm tired of chasing girls. That routine gets tired after a while."

Morgana looked at Arthur for a moment, before she took the first step of the winding stair case. "Those are some big words. Where's the real Arthur, and what'd you do with him?" Morgana genuinely laughed.

Arthur shrugged. "Hey, I've gotta grow up sometime."

Morgana threw her clean blouse over her shoulder. "Good for you, Arthur. This change in you—I think I like it."

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired by: "The Drug In Me Is You" by Falling in Reverse<em>

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><p><em><strong>AN:**_Okay, this chapter was actually _really_ long, but it doesn't seem that way…Partly to blame for the delay in my publishing is: school work, and I've been watching RTEs "Love/Hate" with Robert Sheehan and Ruth Negga. GO WATCH THAT SHOW! I'm proud to be an American (mostly), but I've got to hand it over to the British and Irish; they make better t.v. then we do. End of sales pitch. Go comment/add me to favorites/story alert.


	31. Chapter 31

_I'm so excited for this (super long) chapter! It's a little late because last week was prom, and I was really busy the week before, etc. Anyway, I hope y'all like reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Arwen is the main focus—pause for outrageous and joyous applause—It's really long, and I love it, and I even enjoyed editing it! Okay, now go on and read, and add me to your favorites/alert if I'm not there, and leave a comment! ._

_For those wondering how much of the story is left, I don't have a clear-cut answer! Anything from5-10 chapters, depending on the pace I take...but this chapter is sort of the beginning of the end, sort of._

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><p><strong>Chapter 31: Star Crossed<strong>

"Ah, damn it," Arthur hissed as his brown loafers stepped directly into a mud puddle which had formed in a bald patch of grass. He clutched his umbrella tighter and pulled it closer to his head, as he marveled at the steeple atop of the church where the large brass bell was cradled ornately below, unmoving even amidst the winds which threatened to throw Arthur's umbrella to the other side of the church yard, and the rain which pelted down unrelentingly.

Arthur pulled his foot out of the mud, shaking his leg in a futile attempt to clean his now ruined shoe. "Great, that's just—" he bent over slightly to get a better look at his sopping foot, before swallowing another mouthful of curses and walking unevenly in his drenched footwear. Slowly and uncomfortably he approached the rectory which was to the side of the church: a small and narrow two-story story house whose simple exterior served as a stark contrast to the elaborate and towering church to the left.

Arthur closed his umbrella the moment he walked onto the porch, raising his fist to knock on the wooden door before he took pause, his hand dropping coldly to his side. _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all. I know Father Soma would help me…but maybe I should wait a little, I'm in no rush, anyhow…well, actually—no matter._ Arthur self consciously took a step back. _Yeah, I'll come back next week, for sure…or maybe next month, or—_

"Good evening sir?" A young priest opened the door, giving Arthur a quizzical look, before looking over his shoulder and towards the swamped church yard. "Boy, it's really coming down, aint it?" He raised his voice a little to be heard over the noise of the storm.

Arthur looked behind him nervously, not bother to wipe his dripping face as he turned back to the priest who didn't appear to be much older than himself. "Yup: cats and dogs," Arthur said with a nervous grimace.

After a pregnant pause, the priest cleared his throat, tilting his head. "Do you have an emergency of some sort? Or are you looking for a bed for the night—"

Arthur held out his hand to stop the priest. "No, no. No one's dying and I'm not homeless." Arthur paused as his ear caught the joyous sounds of laughing and talking further into the illuminated house, and he noticed that the priest had a cloth napkin tucked into his black shirt. "I came to see Father Franco Soma—if he's available, it's sort of important," Arthur rushed out.

"We were just eating—"

"Oh, sorry to be a bother. I'll come back another day then, I guess," Arthur said a little dejectedly, though he had hardly talked himself out of fleeing only a minute earlier.

The young cleric waved his hand in dismissal, giving Arthur a reassuring smile. "Nonsense: I'm sure Father will be more than happy to see you. Please, come in out of the cold rain," the priest said waving his hand.

Arthur nodded happily, resting his closed umbrella to the side of the door, kicking his wet and muddy shoes off and setting them next to the umbrella. He pointed at his wet socks which had caught the priest's attention. "Sorry, I uhh…stepped in a puddle of mud."

The priest shrugged, opening the door wider for Arthur to come in. "I'm Father Newman, by the way," the young priest extended his hand for a shake, which Arthur readily gave. There was another pause before he asked: "And you are…"

"Oh, sorry, I'm—I'm all over the place," Arthur said with a sigh, running a hand through his damp hair.

"Well it's nice to meet you 'all over the place'," the cleric joked.

"Forgive me: I'm Arthur Pendragon, an old friend of Father Franco's." Arthur evaluated the standard response given when people found out that he was a Pendragon. Usually the eye brows shot up, the eyes widened, and then that was usually followed by a slight awe-struck step backward. But this priest was disappointing; he was unfazed.

"Well Mr. Pendragon, I can't say I haven't heard your name before—Father Franco talks about you often."

"…Really?"

"He'll be so delighted to see you. I'll go fetch him."

The young priest turn and disappeared, leaving Arthur alone in the small foyer, taking in the familiar surroundings for the first time in three years; not much had changed in the past three years.

"Arthur? Arthur— is that really you?"

Arthur looked to his left where he could hear Father Soma's rich Italian accent, but couldn't yet see his tan illuminated face. When the priest finally did appear, Arthur couldn't help but smile just as broadly. Like the house, Father hadn't changed all too much either; he was wearing a pair of black thick-rimmed glasses, and his jet black hair was combed a little differently. "Hey, Father Franco!" Arthur was surprised to hear the level of excitement in his own voice.

"Well, isn't this a surprise? I thought my ears were playing tricks on me when Father Newman said you were here."

Arthur smiled, looking down quickly at his wrist watch. "Sorry 'bout the time, and all: I tried to get off of work as soon as I could, but I know you're busy with the parish in the day."

"No need to apologize, I'm just glad to see you," her assured Arthur, giving him a hearty pat on the back.

Arthur nodded, noticing speckles of gray emerge at Father's full hair line. "It's been long, I know," Arthur said bowing his head for a moment.

"You're here now, that's what matters." Father paused, stepping back as he took a better look at Arthur. "You look so well, Arthur— very healthy…"

"I haven't touched a drink in a long while, if that's what you mean."

Father Franco smiled even wider, if at all physically possible. "I haven't forgotten about you, you know. You've been in my prayers all these years, and I knew you could do it. I just _knew _it. I'm so glad!"

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "Actually Father…there was a pretty bad incident about two weeks ago—but that's been it, I swear it. I don't have to get drunk any more to deal with things, you know?"

"You've always been a fighter; a rough patch was all that was. So is that why you're here; for guidance?" Father asked rubbing his large hands together. "I would love to catch up, I'm sure a lot has happened in these few years."

"Father," Arthur began, the single word somber and thick. "I don't have anywhere else to go."

Father Soma's dark brows came together in appraisal. "You're not in any trouble, are you?"

"Not really—" Arthur cut off his answer as another priest who lived in the house nodded at them, before walking up the steps. Arthur cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Can we go to your office?" He nearly whispered.

"Of course." The cleric turned quickly, leading Arthur to his large office to the back of the house in silence. Flicking on the lights to the room, he motioned towards the couch up against the wall. "Make yourself comfortable."

Arthur took off his jacket before sitting, watching Father Franco walk to his desk where a pitcher of water sat, and he poured a tall glass.

"You want one?" Father held up a red carton of cigarettes, shaking it around.

"Nah Father: I quit, actually."

"Really? Whoever said things never change?" He asked himself with a hearty chuckle. "Take this," he said handing the glass of water to Arthur, whose hands were slightly shaking. Father sat in the oversized seat across from Arthur, pausing to light his own cigarette. "So I take it that you didn't come for small talk. That's good; chitter-chatter is a waste of time."

Arthur abruptly set his glass on the coffee table in front of him, opening his hands. "Shit, I think I'll take that smoke, actually."

Father Franco laughed tossing the carton and lighter in Arthur's direction. "It's very strange to see you nervous, Arthur."

"I don't do 'nervous'; not usually," Arthur said with the cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth. Arthur lit the cigarette with precision. Arthur closed his eyes as he took a deep drag, waiting a moment to exhale. He spoke with his blue eyes still closed. "Have you ever had that crushing moment when you realize that you don't have all the answers? That you may be in way over your head?"

"I know the feeling."

"What's that crap saying people use all the time?" Arthur asked opening his eyes. "'Anything that's worth it takes effort—or something like that?' Well, I'm starting to think that it's not such a load of crap anymore."

"How long are you going to speak in riddles, Arthur?"

Arthur took a deep breath, taking a drink of his water, before bending over to flick some she's into the ash tray. "I met a girl, Father Franco."

Father grinned, crossing his legs. "Not to be rude, but that's not exactly breaking news coming from you."

"No, I mean I met a _good _girl, Father. I know it's been a while since I've shown my face 'round here, and I'm sorry, but I'm not the same guy I was three years ago. I'm not a skirt-chaser: my skirt chasing days are over!" Arthur said triumphantly. "I got rid of all of those 'friends', the ones who I always got in trouble with."

"Good."

"I would be a happy man if I never stepped foot into a fraternity party again, and I can't remember the last time I…_you know_."

Father Franco grinned. "This is all such good news Arthur. And what? These changes are because of this new 'good girl'?"

"Honest to God, I don't even know how all of this happened," Arthur said leaning back. "I went out to dinner one day, and I met her. But our first meeting wasn't exactly romantic or anything; I was a total ass to her. Then she kept popping up in my life, until one day…" Arthur paused as he looked back on the memory with fondness. "I saw her, and I couldn't believe I hadn't realized how beautiful she was—I guess that's when it all started. Shallow, I know; but hey, we are talking about _me_ here. Everyone has to start somewhere."

"And this beautiful good girl, does she have a name."

"It's Guinevere, but she goes by Gwen."

"Guinevere, huh? That's a name you sure don't hear every day. And you met her at a dinner?" Father asked with obvious confusion.

Arthur took a drag of his cigarette, pushing his damp bangs off of his forehead. "She was a waitress. I met her at a diner, where she waited on my table."

"…Did you say a waitress?" Father asked, lowering his tone.

Arthur mutely shook his head. "You may want to buckle your seat belt for the rest of this, Father Franco."

The priest dismissively waved his tan hand. "I've heard it _all_, trust me."

"Guinevere works for me now: as a maid at our house."

The priest's head turned, and his eyes narrowed as he gave Arthur to recant his statement as a joke. "…Pardon? A maid: as in someone who cooks and cleans?"

"And she's colored," Arthur rushed outquickly. "I'm head over heels in love with Guinevere Gibson, and she's a colored maid! There: I said it; it's out. Now you know. Phew." Arthur leaned back into his chair, biting down on his lower lip as he waited for a reaction.

Father Franco leaned over to put out his cigarette, letting out a deep sigh as he did so. "Oh boy…I sure don't hear that one every day." He reclined fully into his chair, rubbing his small dark eyes, bowing his head. "That's a lot to take in. Arthur, you've pulled some crazy stunts in your day…but…a colored girl? That's a little drastic, even for you."

"You don't have to tell me twice. And before you ask: yes. This is the real deal. I'm not one of those guys who just picks up colored girls to toss them out—I'd never even looked at a colored girl twice before Guinevere. But no matter how unconventional it is, it still_ is_."

"How long has this gone on for?"

"Since the beginning of summer."

"Since this summer?" Father Franco asked in disbelief. "That's quite some time. So this really isn't a fling, then?"

"No Father, it's not. I think I'd know, seen as I am the master of quick flings."

Father Franco chuckled. "I take it I'm one of the few who know's 'bout this secret, then."

"Well…Merlin does—"

"Of course."

"—and Stella."

"Ahh, Stella. I think of her quite often," Father Franco said with a small smile.

"And Guinevere's brother; he know's too. Only three people, well I guess you make four."

"Hmm…" Father Franco murmured, now stroking his chin. "Do you think that's very prudent? Having all these people know such a thing?"

"We didn't exactly tell Stella and Elliot: it's a long story, trust me. But I'm not worried 'bout Merlin. But I did tell you I was in over my head, remember?"

"Indeed, you did," Father Franco rubbed his cheeks, where a dark beard was beginning to develop. But Arthur: whether they're colored or not, girls_ will_ try and take advantage of you and your massive wealth; especially if they're of little means themselves. I hate to say it, really I do, but we live in a world where people willingly take advantage of others for their own gain."

"Guinevere doesn't give a fig about money. She'd love me even if I was as poor as her. That's the kind of gal she is, Father. She's the only person whose ever loved me for me. It sound's crazy, doesn't it?"

"Hmm…" Father mumbled thoughtfully, still stroking his cheek.

"But Merlin has been by my side throughout this entire thing, but even he can't help me with what I'm about to ask of you."

"What makes you so sure that I can help—with whatever you keep alluding to?"

"Well for one, you're not a racist. I can't say that 'bout most people I know, so already my list is pretty short.I mean: you have coloreds in your parish and school, and most people in this town can't boast that…not that they'd _want _to."

"People tend to forget, or refuse to acknowledge, that Negroes were made in the image and likeness of God too."

Arthur smiled, rubbing his hands together. "Father Franco, if everything is going to be alright—with me and Guinevere—the only person who can help me is_ you_. And you have that entire penitent confidentiality thing too, right? You can't tell anyone about this, right?"

"If I'm your confessor, sure, but you haven't confessed anything yet, Arthur."

"That's all I need to hear, Father."

Father tilted his head, grinning. "Am I going to regret this arrangement?"

Arthur just silently smiled as he lifted off of the couch slightly, taking a few pieces of paper out of his back pocket. "Father Franco, I'm going to owe you _big_ time."

* * *

><p>Tom tilted backward into his chair with a content sigh, rubbing the small paunch of his stomach which had developed over the years. "Gwen, that hit the spot!"<p>

Gwen, still eating her own food, looked up at her smiling father. "You always say that."

"But it's always true." Tom took a sip of his coffee. "So, you got any plans today, baby? It's warming up nicely outside."

"Did you forget? I was spending the day with a friend from work. We may go catch a movie or something, then go back to her house," Gwen made a conscious effort to try and sound casual.

"That's fine by me; better than sitting in an empty house all day. Anyhow, it's good that you're makin' all these new friends. I know that after Lucianne moved to Chicago, and Lorenzo to New York, that it was tough on you; being alone and all."

"Don't worry 'bout me Daddy, I was—am fine. I really get along with the girls at work; they're all great," Gwen stuffed her mouth with food, hoping that if it was full, then her father would stop talking.

Tom stood, taking his empty plate with him to the sink. "Now you just need to meet a nice young fella, and everything will be peachy keen."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Daddy…not this _again_…"

Tom held up his hands in defense. "I'm just sayin' it'd be nice if you brought a good respectable fella home, that's all." Tom leaned in, giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek. "I've gotta go to work now, baby. You have fun though, okay?"

Gwen nodded, giving her father a kiss in return. "I love you Daddy. Don't forget your lunch; it's next to the toaster."

Tom smiled. "I never have any problems with you Gwen; you're the best daughter a fella could ask for."

Gwen silently took a drink from her orange juice. "Hurry, or you'll miss the bus."

* * *

><p>The words of the professor at the front of the room began to run together, and the darkness of the projector-lit room made Morgana even more uneasy. She didn't realize that she was tapping her pencil against the textbook on her desk, and tapping her feet until Vivian leaned over from her left.<p>

"Would you quit that tappin'!" Vivian hissed in a whisper. "You're making a ruckus over there."

Morgana rolled her eyes, though she stopped her jittery movement. "Sorry, Viv," she apologized halfheartedly. Stretching her arms behind her, Morgana turned in her seat, looking directly at the empty desk which was next to Merlin's. She didn't realize she was scowling, until her eyes met Merlin's who had a glare on his face as well.

"Turn around," he whispered, twirling his index finger in a circle.

Morgana scoffed, promptly turning to face forward, and laying back into her desk with a thud. She folded her arms over her chest, before realizing that the professor kept glancing unhappily in her direction. She looked over to Vivian, asking: "What page?"

"Two hundred and seven."

Morgana sighed, flipping a couple of pages over, only to find charts and business equations which made no sense. Well, that's why she was there on a Saturday afternoon.

"Alright class, let's take a thirty minute break. If you have lunches, it may behoove you to eat them now," the professor declared, turning on the lights to the auditorium.

Morgana didn't have to be told twice: she nearly shot up, picking up her purse and lunch, about to take a step into the aisle, before she felt Vivian's small cold hand on her bare arm.

"Wait up for me, will ya?"

Morgana's attention was taken by Merlin rushing past her and out of the room. "Sure."

Vivian too picked up her things, walking in lock step with Morgana out of the room, and into the noisy halls. "Where's Arthur? Wasn't he supposed to be here?"

Morgana sped up, doing her best to keep her eyes locked on Merlin, who was weaving through the mass of students in a blur. "He was supposed to be…"

Vivian moved up a little, leaning over to look at Morgana's face. "Are you okay? You don't look too hot…"

"I'm fine," Morgana snapped, her words having more bite to them than she intended.

Vivian physically flinched at Morgana's harshness. "Alright…" she trailed off uneasily. "Look! There's Mildred and Kate; I have to talk to them about something. I'll catch up with you later."

Morgana hardly had enough time to nod, before Vivian had spun around, flying in the opposite direction. Morgana stopped, turning to see her smiling and waving in Kate and Mildred's direction, and by time Morgana had turned back around, she had lost sight of Merlin. She walked through the exit which was nearest to her, before stopping short to pan the filling courtyard.

"Hey, watch it!" a female student growled as she ran into Morgana's back, before nudging her off.

Morgana ignored the girl, as he eyes continued to scan the courtyard before she finally spotted Merlin who was sitting against a tree with a book in his lap and sandwich in hand. "Hey Merlin. Mind if I join you?" She asked sweetly, feigning a warm smile.

Merlin took a bite of his sandwich, looking up from his book momentarily, before looking back down to his lap, disregarding Morgana's unwanted presence.

"Now, now, that's no way to treat an old friend, is it Merlin?" Morgana asked clucking her tongue, as she took the liberty to sit on the grass, crossing her legs. "Or do you like to go by 'Ellis' instead? Look at that: I don't even know what to call you these days…" Morgana almost flinched as Merlin closed his book with a loud "snap", raising a scowl.

"What do you want, Morgana? This is the second time you've brought up this thing with the Adamson School—so is there something you'd like to get off of your chest?"

Morgana's jaw clenched. "You have really got some nerve…you went into _my _room, went through _my_ things, and then pretended to be _my_ secretary, and you're the one catching an attitude. The sad thing is that I don't think you really know what you've done! Do you?"

"I'm looking out for Arthur like I always have."

"Looking out for him? And how's that?"

"He and Gwen want to be together, and you're the only thing standing in the way."

Morgana genuinely laughed, pointing to her chest. "I'm the_ only_ thing standing in the way? Your warped optimistic view of reality is much worse than I thought." Morgana's head tilted slightly, as her forehead creased in thought. "You really are dillusional, aren't you? You actually believe everything you're saying? Oh my goodness, and I'm the crazy one!" Morgana laughed, clapping her pale hands together in merriment. "Merlin, you're more of a fool than I thought! _You_ think you're going around fixing things; saving people? Well I hope you're glad to know that you have successfully thrown away all of Gwen's hopes of ever going to nursing school. Give yourself a nice pat on the back for that one."

"No I didn't. She's smart; she'll get in somewhere else: the right way."

"Somewhere else like _where_?" Morgana asked with a sharp laugh. "Uhmm, in case you haven't noticed Merlin: there isn't exactly a wide array of colored colleges giving out nursing degrees. And even if there were, there is _no_ way in hell Gwen could _ever _afford a college education. She can hardly pay the rent and bills for her matchbox of a house as it is."

Merlin took another bite from his sandwich, speaking from the side of his mouth. "Are we done here? I was actually enjoying myself before you came."

Morgana rolled her eyes. "I actually came to see where Arthur was."

"He lives at your house, not mine."

Morgana flipped her hair off of her shoulders, her eyes diverting to the dark clouds in the distance which were rolling in. "You know he's going to flunk these exams, right? And most likely this entire course…and possibly some others."

"You sound so distraught about it," Merlin said with disgust. "I told him there was an important review session today, and I guess he decided not to show up. Unlike you, I decided to respect his free will."

"His free will to fail out of his senior year of college?"

"Well, I guess he's got a little safety net called "Dragon Real Estate", doesn't he?"

Morgana scoffed. "I bet he's off somewhere with his little maid."

"Wow, you mean you don't know where he is already? It looks like you have some catching up to do. You'll have fun with that, I'm sure." Why don't you go ask him yourself?" With those last words Merlin took the last bite of his sandwich, picked up his paper lunch bag and book, and walked past the ever-glaring Morgana.

* * *

><p>"For goodness sake," Arthur groaned, reaching over to turn the volume dial on the radio all the way to the left. "They play that song way too much. I oughta write a letter, or somethin'."<p>

Gwen looked at the car radio silently, then turned back to her window, where she continued to watch the thick rain drops slide down.

"You're awfully quiet today. What are you thinking 'bout, Guinevere?"

"Nothing really. Just how much I like the rain, I guess." Gwen said quietly, her dark eyes fixated on the wet and gray landscape.

Arthur watched Gwen for a few moments, her expression remaining stoic and unflinching. He turned back to the road, tapping against the leather-bound steering wheel. "Just wait, you're gonna love this place Guinevere. I've only been there once…" Arthur's voice trailed off as he turned his head to look at Gwen, only to find her silently wiping at her eyes. "Guinevere?"

Gwen looked up at Arthur with a small smile, then back out the passenger window. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm crying," she said with a laugh, throwing up her hands. "It's nothing, I promise."

"You're crying: you hardly cry. That aint _nothing_."

Gwen remained silent, listening to the rain pelt against the car.

"Alright, I'm pulling over."

"No, don't stop the car! I said I'm fine, I don't want to be late, and ruin everything. You planned—"

"It doesn't matter what time we get there," Arthur assured her, as he pulled off of the one-lane road, moving into gravel and then dirt, where he promptly parked and killed the engine. Arthur physically shifted in his seat so his entire body could face Gwen, whose eyes were now dry, albeit a little pink. "What's up, Guinevere? Are you not up for the trip? We can go back."

"No it's not that."

"Well, what is it then? 'Cause one minute you're looking out the window, and the next I'm pulling over 'cause you're crying."

"I didn't want to bring it up earlier and upset you. I know you've been looking forward to today: 'Gwen and Arthur' time, you called it," Gwen said with a little laugh.

"Forget the plans," Arthur said quickly and with a shrug. "Plans change all the time."

Gwen looked up at Arthur's blue eyes which were so gentle and caring, and she couldn't resist withholding information from him any longer. "I'm going to sound so silly," she said with an embarrassed sigh. " Elliot came home today."

Arthur's head tilted to the side in obvious confusion. "But those weren't tears of joy…"

Gwen sniffled, hating the sound. "Daddy had only been gone for work 'bout thirty minutes 'fore Elliot came in; he still has his keys. He only came by to get the rest of his things, to take them on over to…" Gwen paused, taking a deep breath, "Bobbi's house. That's it: he's not coming back. He's finally through with us, and it's all my fault, I—" Gwen looked up towards the roof of the car, to detract more tears from escaping. "That's it, it's just been bothering me. The house isn't the same without him, Arthur. And not to mention we were hardly getting by with the three of us, and now that it's only Daddy's paycheck and my own—I don't know what we'll do!"

Arthur opened his arms, inviting Gwen for a hug. She gladly accepted, resting her head against his chest as she was held tightly. "Guinevere, okay, okay, it's okay," he said rubbing her back. "Don't blame yourself. I hate to see you cry. Look, don't worry about anything. If it's the money, I can help you out with that; don't fret over a single thing, okay?"

"It's not just the money, Arthur."

"Well, I can't help with the other thing. He'll come around, listen: you've just gotta be away for a while before you realize where your real home is. All hope isn't lost, Gwen. He's not a lost cause!" Arthur assured her, rubbing her back gently. "And don't blame yourself, okay? This isn't your fault, not at all."

"And I didn't make things any better by yelling at him the other day 'bout his new girlfriend. Now he doesn't even want to_ look_ at me Arthur! My own brother thinks I'm disgusting."

Arthur could feel Gwen's tears begin to moisten his shoulder as he rubbed her back again. "You did the right thing, Guinevere. It was all you could do; you're only human, remember?"

time. "Sorry, I'm a bit of an emotional wreck, I didn't mean to break down like that. You were just so excited 'bout today, and I didn't want to take the wind out of your sails."

Arthur rubbed Gwen's thigh affectionately. "You don't have to worry about that, okay? I just wanna make sure you're alright."

Gwen flung her wet hands into her lap, as she nodded, slightly embarrassed. "I'm fine, I promise; I guess I just needed to let that out," Gwen said with a weak smile.

Arthur looked straight ahead through the windshield, noticing the trees at the side of the road swaying in the wind, as he turned the keys in the ignition to start the engine once again, easing on the gas, checking the mirrors before getting back onto the road. "Just remember Guinevere that it was his decision. He's decided to live his life, and you've got to live your own."

Gwen took a deep breath. "I know, I just wish that—" Gwen's words were cut off as the car lurched forward suddenly, throwing her and Arthur forward just far enough before their seatbelts caught them, snapping them backward towards their headrests in a sharp and swift motion. "What just happened?" Gwen asked, looking around the car which was now moving softly again.

Arthur's eyes narrowed in confusion as he looked at his leather-bound steering wheel. "Sorry Gwen, I guess I…" Arthur looked down at his feet, "I must've hit something?"

Gwen held on to her seatbelt, catching her breath. "You gave me a fright there! I thought we had hit a critter."

Arthur looked in his mirror, just to make sure he hadn't. "Nope, we're all clear. Sorry 'bout that, though."

Gwen waved her hand. "I'm still alive."

Arthur looked back forwards, not wanting to keep his eyes off of the slick road for too long. The rain was getting harder, clouding his vision even further, until he turned his windshield wipers to the highest level. "What's up with all of the rain, lately?"

"We have been in drought, we should be thankful. Whoah! Arthur!" Gwen exclaimed, tapping his shoulder furiously. "Did you see that bolt of lightning?"

"Yup, I did. God must be really angry up there. I wonder what I did this time…"

Gwen grinned, as she reached to pull her hair up into a pony tail. She put her hair tie between her teeth, as she gathered up all of her curls.

"I like your hair that length. It really goes—" Arthur's mouth immediately shut as his car lurched forward again, this time not as much, and the recovery was quick.

"Arthur…what's going on?" She whispered.

Arthur ignored her question, as he momentarily looked down at his feet on the gas pedal, and the speedometer. "C'mon…" he murmured, pumping the gas pedal, but the speedometer wouldn't move past 40mph. "Ah…c'mon!" He slammed down on the wheel, before furiously turning it all the way to the right, pulling off to the side of the road once again, the car loudly vibrating against the gravel the entire way.

"Oh my goodness, that doesn't sound good…"

"Yeah, Gwen, it's not," Arthur said with furrowed eyebrows. "Working cars don't rattle like that." He swiftly set the car into park before fully reclining in his seat, closing his eyes. He opened them momentarily to look at his silver wristwatch. "Damn it."

Gwen watched Arthur close his eyes again, and she was almost afraid to speak. "Arthur…what are you doing?" She whispered, just as his eyes fluttered open.

"I'm thinking." Silently, Arthur turned to pick up his leather jacket which was on the backseat. "Give me a minute: I have to go look under the hood, and see if I can fix whatever's going on."

"Arthur, you'll get soaked!"

Arthur shrugged his jacked on. "Either I go look under the hood and get a little wet, or we can spend the night in the car." Arthur waited for a response from Gwen for about five seconds before adding: "I thought so. We'll be back on the road in no time, okay?"

"I hope it's nothing terrible." Gwen watched Arthur silently exit the car, and walk around the back to the trunk. He came back into full view a few moments later; one hand holding his jacket over his head, and the other holding a small red tool box which he promptly set next to his feat by the gravel. He opened the hood of the small red car, and grinned rubbing his hands together, before his head disappeared from clear view.

"What's he doing with a tool box in the back of his car?" Gwen asked herself out loud. She looked around to take in her surroundings, but there wasn't much to observe. They had been on the road for about an hour, and were apparently within thirty minutes of their destination. But until then, they had been driving on a desolate one lane road, which had just let them out of a small town. A sudden bolt of light-purple lightning in the distance broke Gwen's train of thought.

"Ah, Jeez…"

Gwen looked up at the propped up hood, listening to Arthur grumbling and muttering to himself, surrounded by the faint clinking sounds of his tools against the car.

"You have got to be kidding me!"

Gwen only blinked, as she continued to listen to Arthur talk—yell to himself.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

Gwen's ears strained, as she heard the faint noise of a tool hit the ground, only to be followed with Arthur's kicking of the front wheel.

"Come…on…you piece…of shit!" Arthur roared in rage, giving his tires full blows with his feet. "Of all the times," Arthur paused momentarily only to catch a breath so he could continue with even more fervor.

"Arthur!" Gwen exclaimed from the inside of the car. She quickly opened her passenger door, holding her jacket atop of her head as a reflex. "Golly! Quit it Arthur, you're acting like an animal!"

Arthur stopped mid-kick at Gwen's words, his chest heaving and face red as he took a step away from his car. "This is just great!" He said with a laugh.

Gwen dried to push the hair out of her face in vain, only to have the wind blow it back out of place. "I'm sure kicking the car isn't gonna help whatever's wrong!" Gwen yelled to be heard over the noise of the storm.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the red car, giving it one last good kick, before taking a second step back. He then made a hand motion for Gwen to come closer, and she took pause before she did so. "I finished giving the car a piece of my mind."

Gwen eyed him up and down uneasily. "I sure hope so."

Arthur bent over into the hood, with Gwen standing next to him. "Look, down there is the cooling fan."

Gwen bent over forth, to see what obviously looked like a flattened fan in the front of the car. Her father and brother may have been mechanics, but she didn't know the first thing about automobiles. "…So?"

Arthur stretched his arms out to pick up a few wires and inspected each one. "I think it—the cooling fan—cut the spark plug wire, taking out some of the cylinders, which would've caused the rattling, and loss of power. It's not extremely uncommon, spark plugs degrade easily but still: out of all the odds, _today_…" He turned all of the wires over, before laughing and shaking his head. "Okay, well this car isn't completely cursed: the battery is okay."

"Uhmm…good?"

"Yes, good; but not good enough. Because this spark plug wire has obviously been cut, and these other wires shouldn't be twisted the way they are." Arthur leaned over again, one foot in the air as he untwisted a set of wires, changing their resting orientation, before tossing Gwen the keys, who stood watching him in awe. "What?" He asked her.

Gwen shook her head, collecting her thoughts. "Nothing. But are you sure you know what you're doing? Don't get me wrong—it sure sounds like it —"

"Trust me: I have hidden talents you don't know about. Now, could you go and turn over the engine? We'll see if unwinding those wires fixed anything, but I doubt it did."

Gwen nodded, nearly running to the left side of the car, and turning on the engine. Her shoulders slumped and heart sank as she realized the rattling and vibration persisted. As she pulled the keys out of the ignition, she heard Arthur let out another string of curses (mostly at his car), slam down the hood, and run to the back to the trunk where he put his tool box once again.

Moments later he was sitting next to her, soaking in the passenger's seat. "Are you wearing good shoes, Guinevere?"

Gwen couldn't help the small gasp which escaped her lips. "You're kidding, right? I'm_ really_ not in the mood for jokes right now, Arthur!"

Arthur leaned away from Gwen, holding his hands up defensively. "I'm not messing with you, I promise! There's just no way in hell we're going anywhere with a snapped spark plug wire. It looks like two of my cylinders blew out, and if I run the car again, the other three may blow at any time; that equals no car. I'd rather replace a wire which cost a couple of dollars than my entire engine. Do you understand, Guinevere?" even more they might blow out too. Replacing

Gwen subconsciously sank further down into her seat, covering her forehead.

"So I'll ask again; are you wearing good shoes?"

Gwen shot Arthur a look which could kill.

"I may have a plan. I know it's not what we want, but we gotta roll with the punches."

Gwen looked out at the pouring rain, before silently nodding toward Arthur. "Let's hear it, then."

"Just listen to the entire thing, hear me out. It'll all make sense—"

"Arthur, can you just go on and say it?"

"Alright: 'bout half a mile back, maybe a mile tops, we passed a motel and some shops at the edge of that one town, Orangeburg: we just passed through it."

"Yeah, I remember it."

"Well, we could go to the motel, I'd get us a room for the night. You can hang back while I get to the gas station which was farther in town, and they'll definitely be able to fix it. Lucky for us the problem isn't hard to fix, I just don't have the right tools to do it."

Gwen couldn't help but frowning and she didn't mean to.

"Guinevere, I know this isn't what we planned. But it's either motel in Orangeburg," Arthur held up his right hand, "or we can stay in this car," he finished holding up his left hand.

Despite the situation, Arthur couldn't help but laugh out loud. "We'll think of everything else as we go, okay Guinevere? Think of this as another one of our adventures, huh?"

Gwen hardly looked amused.

"Ah, c'mon Guinevere," Arthur said pinching one of her cheeks, before kissing it gently. "Give me a smile, huh? It aint that bad, things could be worse."

"You're lucky I like you so much, Arthur. Let's just go before I change my mind. The things you talk me into…"

* * *

><p>"It doesn't look that bad, actually," Gwen said with a glimmer of hope as her feet crunched against the gravel parking lot of the small two-story motel, which appeared to have a light on in every window.<p>

"Are you okay? Do your feet hurt?" Arthur asked.

"I'm tougher than I look, Arthur," Gwen said with a smile. "I think it'll take more than a twenty minute walk to do any real damage. What about you?"

"Actually, my back hurts a little," Arthur said putting a hand on his hips and leaning backward. Arthur looked at Gwen momentarily, noticing that the bottom of her lavender and white dress was soaked completely, and the upper half dry from the shield of her coat; much like himself. The two walked silently, weaving through the cars in the parking lot, until they both stopped at a small extension of the main building which was labeled: front office.

Arthur turned to Gwen, water running down his face. "I'm not gonna leave you out here, 'cause you'll freeze to death. So come inside with me, but stay by the door, okay? I'll handle everything else."

Gwen nodded, doing her best not to chatter her teeth together.

Arthur gave her a quick wink which Gwen returned, before the two took the few steps necessary to enter the small office. Arthur held the door open for Gwen, taking a step back as she rushed in, before standing next to the door in the corner. "Stay there," he whispered pointing in Gwen's direction. He turned around to find the office place empty, and the receptionist's desk on the far side of the room. Arthur walked over to the counter, ringing the small bell for service. He heard the sound of a chair scraping against a wooden floor in a back room of the office, where Arthur saw the figure of a man moving.

"Good evenin' sir. You looking for a room this evenin'?" The man from the room emerged. he was a small and round man who looked to be about thirty, with yellow stained teeth which immediately caught Arthur's attention.

"Yeah, I am. My car broke down 'bout half a mile from here."

The manager took a slurp from the mug he came out with. "In this weather? That sure is some bad luck, you got there. The newsman on the radio reckoned it's gon' be like this for the next couple of days."

Arthur shrugged, pulling out his black leather wallet. "Please tell me you've got a room left with two beds," Arthur said resting his elbow against the counter, rubbing his forehead. Arthur looked up slightly as he noticed the delay in response of the manager, only to find him glancing at Guinevere in the corner.

The manager slurped loudly at the coffee mug again, his small green eyes lingering on Gwen for only a moment longer. "Your car picked the wrong day to break down. This storm put lots of people off of their travels, and the last double-bedded room was filled up 'bout," the man paused to look at his cheap watch, "nearly two hours ago." He set his coffee down at the counter next to Arthur's elbow, before raising a skinny index finger to point at Gwen. "Sorry to ask such a thing, but is that colored girl on yonder with you?"

Arthur again didn't look at Gwen, and ignored the manager's question. "I guess I'll have to take a single bed, if that's all you got. And that's what…" Arthur looked behind the manager where a large sign with nightly rates hung. "Ahh, four dollars? Here's a five," Arthur said putting a crisp five dollar bill on the counter.

The manager loudly sucked his teeth, looking down at the cash, then back to Arthur, his mouth in a straight line, his eyes hard. "I_ asked_: is that nigger girl _with you_?"

"You can keep the change, if you want."

The manager looked down at the five dollar bill, then back to Gwen who stood nervously by the door, watching the encounter from a distance. "Y'all two can't stay here, buddy; this motel is for white folk only. Now, the Negro motel is on down the road 'bout six miles from here—"

"I told you my car broke down."

"Well from where I'm standing, it looks like the girl has got two good legs on her."

Arthur stood up straight, clearing his throat. "You can't be serious. It's pouring outside, and it's thundering and lightening; she's not walking six miles anywhere."

The manager's eyes narrowed, as his chin tilted upward, examining Arthur, releasing a shallow grunt. "I don't care how she gets there, but know this—" The manager slid the money back towards Arthur, maintaining eye contact, "she aint stayin' here."

Arthur could feel his breathing rate steadily increase as the hand which was at his side balled into a fist. "My money is just as green as anyone else's."

"And that girl's just as dark as any other colored. So you can take your cash and your little nigger girl with you on down to the nigger motel," the manager bitterly spat out, his eyes still set on Gwen, and his voice increasing every time he referred to her color. "Now I don't want no trouble mister. You seem like a decent—"

"Hey—hey!" Arthur roared, slamming his flat palm against the counter. "Look at me, not her!"

The manager reluctantly obeyed.

"Listen here, I understand this place is for whites only—"

"There's a sign out front that says just that."

Arthur hadn't seen it, but he had figured as much. "But I work with her, and I can't leave her at some motel on the bad side of town, especially when I have no way of getting there!" Arthur shook his head, trying to remain as calm as humanly possible. He knew that giving the manager a piece of his mind would only leave him and Gwen sleeping in his car for the night. It was time to politick; perhaps he had learned something from his father after all… "I don't want any trouble either, and if I could, I'd drive her to the colored motel, and I'd stay here. But I can't; you see, I'm dealing with a busted car and I'm already late for a deadline, so I'm asking to please give us a room." Arthur made sure to deliver each word calmly and deliberately, as he slowly slipped out a twenty dollar bill, putting it on top of the previously laid five, and sliding it over towards the manager once again. "For your trouble…"

The manager looked down at the pile of money which had been tripled, then back up to Arthur in surprise.

Arthur resisted a smirk of delight as he watched the manager's eyes widen in shock and desire. "There's a lot more of where that came from, and I'm willing to pay…"

"I….uhh….that's a lot of money mister…" The manager babbled, as his hand self-consciously inched towards the money.

Arthur's hand quickly covered the money, stopping the manager. "No: not 'til I get the room." Arthur tapped his chin in thought. "Actually, you know what, I don't wanna deal with all this hassle." Arthur scooped up the twenty five dollars, wagging his finger at the manager whose mouth was agape. "I think I will go on to the nigger hotel, I'm sure they'll be happy to take us _and_ the money." Arthur feigned a sigh and a shrug, about to turn on his heels, before the manager called out to stop him.

"Wait, mister!" The manager blinked, hanging his head as his voice became softer. "Business has been slow, you know, and I got a family and kids to look out for. That money could really…"

"I want a room. A nice one: don't give me some dingy closet which the maid skips corners on. Got it?" Arthur demanded.

The manager reluctantly nodded.

"And I'm feeling generous: I'll throw in an extra five if you get me extra towels, blankets, and some decent clothes for both me and my girl. Could you make that happen?"

The manager gave Gwen one last hateful look, before swallowing his pride and nodding. He walked to the desk, picking up a set of keys from a large rack of hooks. "I don't want any trouble mister."

Arthur set the money back on the counter, as the manager handed over the key. "You won't even know we're here, I promise."

"It's room 250, on the very end of the top floor," the man hardly muttered. "It's the deluxe room. It's usually where the newlyweds stay."

Arthur politely took the key. "Perfect. Thanks for understanding, we really appreciate it. Here's that extra five," Arthur said handing the man another bill. Decided not to waste another word on the pathetic manager, Arthur he swiftly spun around, waving the room key at Gwen with a smile.

Gwen's eyes widened, fixated on the key. "Arthur, what'd you say?" Gwen whispered happily, surprised as she felt Arthur's arm wrap around her waist.

"It just came down to money Guinevere, everything does eventually." Arthur led Gwen to the door, giving the manager a curt salute, before bending down to give Gwen a quick peck on the lips.

* * *

><p>Gwen shook her head as she cradled the receiver of the room phone between her ear and shoulder, watching Arthur pace next to her as he leafed through a thick yellow phone book, nearly making a puddle in the carpet with his wet clothes. "Thirty dollars, Arthur? That's crazy; I would've sooner gone to the colored motel, than fork over that cash," Gwen said covering the receiver with her hand.<p>

"We needed a room, he's was a greedy prick, and I'm a rich one: it all worked out perfectly. Look: you have a nice warm room with pretty furniture, most handsome fella any gal could ask for, a nice comfortable bed…" Arthur wiggled his eye brows as he looked at the lone king size bed in the room.

Gwen grinned at his gesture. "I'm not so sure I believe you when you say that there were no more twin-bed rooms left…"

Arthur chuckled, resting the phonebook at his side. "I'm not _that_ crafty (or desperate), Guinevere. You give me too much credit!"

"Mhmm…"

"Besides, if I really wanted to…"

Gwen giggled as she felt Arthur stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, giving her a warm kiss against her cold neck, whispering into her ear. Gwen swiftly turned around, pressing an index finger to Arthur's lips to silence him.

"Gwen baby, you still there, girl?" An obviously out of breath Alice asked on the other end.

Gwen shot Arthur a warning look not to make any sounds. "Yeah Miss Alice. Sorry to bother you like this. We really need to get a phone in the house," Gwen apologized.

"It's no problem girl," Alice said taking a deep breath. "Here, I fetched your Daddy, he's here now."

There was a bit of crackling and heavy breathing as the phone was handed to Tom. "Hey Gwen, is everything alright?"

"Yeah Daddy, peachy keen. Well, sort of."

"What's wrong?" Tom asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

"Daddy, I was wondering if I could maybe spend the night at my friend's house? Her boyfriend just broke up with her, and she's downright blue 'bout it. She wanted to know if I could maybe stay with her, but if I can't, I'll just have to break it to her." and I wanted to be with her."

"Nah baby, you won't have to do that. You can stay out; that's fine by me. But you'll be back in time for church though tomorrow, right?"

"Ohh…I'm not too sure…I'll try Daddy, okay? And I'll call Miss Alice if anything else happens."

"Alright, have fun I guess. Love you, sweet pea."

"I love you too, Daddy." Gwen let her father hang up first, before setting down the phone herself, only then freed from Arthur's grasp.

"Ahh, that was so cute, 'sweet pea'," Arthur teased, pulling Gwen back towards him the moment she put down the phone.

Gwen looked up at Arthur, putting his hands against his chest with a smile. "You're just jealous you don't have a nickname for me."

"Yeah I do, 'Guinevere'."

"That doesn't count Arthur: that's my real name!"

"But I'm the only one who calls you it; close enough for me."

Gwen laughed as she pulled away, tugging at her wet dress. "Do you know when those clothes will be coming?"

Arthur snorted. "Whenever that bastard manager feels like shaking a leg."

"He did give us the room, and a pretty nice one, too," Gwen said looking around the pleasant room. For such a modest hotel, the room was quite large: a king size bed dominated the room, which was flanked by two bedside tables. To the opposite side of the room was a small round oak table where a radio sat, with two chairs. Next to the closet was the bathroom which too was of comfortable size.

"So, I was looking through the phone book for some places which do takeout places. This _is _Orangeburg, so we don't have the best options, but I found this one Italian restaurant."

"They have Italian people in this town?" Gwen asked automatically.

Arthur chuckled. "I guess so. What do you say?"

Gwen rubbed her cold arms. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Arthur nodded, picking up the phone book and telephone. "Alright, just give me a minute."

"Okay, I'm just gonna dry off a little."

Arthur nodded in Gwen's direction. "Hi, you do take out, right?...Great."

Gwen picked up her soaked jacket off of the table with the radio, walking next door to the spacious and clean bathroom. She walked to the shining white shower, throwing her jacket over the shower-curtain rod, spreading it out so it would dry faster.

"Yes sir, it's Pearson's Motel. Do you deliver that far?...Ah, great!"

Gwen heard listened to Arthur go over the menu over the phone, as she stood behind him. "Let me take your jacket," Gwen whispered to Arthur, moving behind him as he shrugged to help her take it off.

"Wait!" Arthur turned swiftly. "Sorry, never mind. Thanks," he whispered.

Gwen listened to Arthur ask what was on the menu, repeating every item back as she walked back to the bathroom, to hang up Arthur's jacket. She threw it up on the rod next to hers, sighing as she turned around only to hear the thick jacket fall to the ceramic tub with a sharp thud. At the doorway, Gwen quickly turned towards the tub, her brows furrowing at the sound which the soft jacket made.

"Hmm…" She said to herself, picking up the damp article of clothing yet again. "I bet he left his wallet inside," she said with a knowing smile. She felt nothing around the outside pockets, but she stopped over Arthur's right breast pocket where her hand rested on top of… "A—what is that?" Gwen asked herself quietly, turning the jacket over to look at its black silk lining, where the source of the curious sound sat wedged inside the pocket, perfectly hidden and secured. Gwen wasn't able to resist as she reached down into the uncharacteristically deep pocket, only to have her cold fingers clamp up as they brushed against an undoubtedly velvet box, able to detect the soft material despite her thawing numbness.

Gwen's voice hitched in her throat as her hand grasped around the box, able to fit inside the pocket and hold the entire case; it was small. She had a brief internal conflict, debating whether or not to respect Arthur's privacy and leave the curious object alone, or snatch it from the confines of the silk pocket, as she so ached to do. Finally unable to bear the suspense for a moment longer, Gwen pulled out the velvet box, taking a step away from the tub as the small and rectangular black velvet case rested evenly in her palm.

Suddenly, Arthur's words which Gwen had been listening to lost all of their distinction, running into a verbal blur, as her mind focused on that one thing and it alone. She had to remind herself to breathe, as the soft box burnt a hole into her palm.

"Guinevere! You like marinara sauce, right?" Arthur asked from the room.

Gwen swallowed the lump in her throat, quickly looking to the open door. "Uhh, yeah, anything is fine Arthur!" Her voice quivered.

"And how 'bout some wine too, does that sound good?"

Silence.

"A nice sweet white wine? I'll get your favorite! How's that sound, Guinevere? Guinevere….Gwen?"

Gwen cleared her throat shaking her head in the affirmative, before realizing that Arthur couldn't see her. "That sounds great. I'd love that."

* * *

><p><em>Title Inspired by: "Star Crossed" by Rosaline<em>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** A thousand apologies! This literally took me forever! I hope you all liked it...I wonder...what's in that small velvet box...hmm...Add me to your story alert, go tell yo' friends about MLMS, and leave a comment!


	32. Chapter 32

_First, I am neither dead nor suffering from a terrible terminal illness: this chapter just took _**forever**_! Chapter 31 received an AMAZING response, and I would highly recommend at least skimming over it, because 32 picks up right where I left off a month ago (eeeek!)..._

_Well, I incorporate some more snippets from the show in this chapter, which I'm sure many of you will appreciate. I can't wait for 33; some major questions will be answered! Ahh, so excited! Hopefully it won't take as long as this one... I do think I 've been spoiling you though with such frequent updatesd ;)_

_Can y'all believe I've been writing "MLMS" for more than a year now—it totally doesn't seem like it! Thank you loyal readers who have read since the first chapter which I cringe when I reread, or the new readers who just finished the 31 previous chapters in a whirlwind—thanks for making my story so popular and well received! Don't forget to comment, add me to your alert/favorites, and tell your friends!_

Happy Reading,

Shout out to **"MerlinFan": **Please forgive me! I know the swearing irks you... Sorry, but there's little respite in this chapter...

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><p><strong>Chapter 32: Tilting the Hourglass<strong>

"Hey, Guinevere," Arthur paused as the phone receiver clicked into its cradle. "The people at the Italian restaurant said it may take up to an hour for the food to get here 'cause of the rain! Is that okay?"

Gwen heard Arthur's question from the main room, but couldn't will herself to speak, as she felt her right hand begin to shake from the impact of the small velvet box. For the past minute or so, she had been in the motel bathroom, holding the small square black box, contemplating whether or not to open it after the shock of its mere existence subsided. She didn't have to open it to know what it was—it could only be one thing. Her mind was forced to act quickly as she heard Arthur's footsteps migrate to her location. Gwen nearly dived for the porcelain tub, picking up Arthur's jacket and stuffing the case back in the pocket just before Arthur appeared.

"Did you hear me?" He asked, leaning into the bathroom while keeping one hand on the door frame.

Gwen nervously pushed some hair out of her face, wondering if Arthur could hear the sound of her heart threatening to pound a hole in her chest. "Yeah," she said biting her bottom lip momentarily. "That sounds great," she smiled, hoping it would seem natural.

Arthur gave Gwen a quick once over, before his left eyebrow rose. "Are you okay…?"

Gwen shook her head quickly, taking a deep breath before laughing. "I'm more than okay!" She said happily. It wasn't a complete lie.

"So babe, it looks like I have you all to myself…" Arthur noted with a rueful grin. "Do you think you'll be able to handle it?"

Gwen walked out of the bathroom past Arthur, resisting the urge to fan herself out of nervousness. "Let's see if you're able to stand me that long."

"Au contraire; I think you'll be the first one to break."

Gwen spun around towards Arthur, pointing directly at him. "If you snore though, I may have to kick you out. Or if you move around too much; then you're out too. Just warning you."

Arthur took a step toward Gwen, wearing an amused grin this time. "I didn't think you we're gonna let me sleep with you, that's why I told that weasel to bring up more sheets along with the clothes."

"What? Did you plan on sleeping on the floor?"

Arthur merely shrugged. "I know how you feel about…you know…us together—like _that_."

Gwen's head rolled back with her inconsolable laughter. "Oh, Arthur!"

"I don't take it you changed your mind…" Arthur let his voice trail off.

"Don't sound too hopeful, now."

His shoulders noticeable slumped, evoking a smile from Gwen.

"I figure if you're willing to pay thirty dollars for a room, you're entitled _at least_ to the bed."

"Ah, you're too generous. But, my real question is: are you included in that offer?" Arthur asked huskily, his arms pulling in Gwen by the waist, causing her to daintily giggle.

"I don't know if you have enough money to afford me," Gwen informed him, resting a hand on his chest.

Arthur lowered his head as he felt Gwen's warm arms around his neck. "You're probably right."

"But, I can admire your persistence," Gwen admitted, her eyes dancing in merriment.

"Hello! I've got your clothes and stuff!" The gruff voice of the manager pierced the moment from the other side of the door, followed by three hard knocks.

Arthur and Gwen both looked toward the door, both startled by the sudden commotion. "Don't worry Guinevere, it's just that bastard manager," he said addressing Gwen's look of alarm. He pushed some hair out of her face. "Let's just make him wait. I'm more interested in you right now."

"Hello! Are y'all in there!" The manager was louder this time, knocking against the door with more force.

"I think you should answer the door," Gwen pushed away from Arthur.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, walking towards the door, as the impatient man continued to make his presence known.

"I'm fixin' to leave in a hot minute!"

Arthur shot Gwen a look which said "I'm-gonna-kill-him", before opening the door only to find the greasy manager tapping his foot impatiently. He carried a stack of towels and quilts, which nearly covered his blotchy face. "You made it up here quickly. It's nice to see you don't got molasses in your britches." Arthur curtly stated.

The manager narrowed his eyes in disdain. "Can't say the same for you, youngin."

Arthur bit his tongue. "Just bring 'em on in," Arthur commanded, opening the door even wider as he stepped out of the small man's way.

The manager silently walked into the room and passed Gwen who stood in front of the bed, not acknowledging her in the slightest. "Do you want me to just put them on this here table?" He turned his back to Gwen, making it clear that he was speaking to the man in charge.

Arthur gave the diminutive man a disgusted once over, before rolling his eyes and closing the door. "Sure."

The manager set the sheets and towels down, breaking the stack in half to reveal some clothing which rested in between. He turned to Arthur, his gaze quickly diverting to Gwen, and then locking back on Arthur. He gruffly cleared his throat, beating his chest. "I don't have many threads to offer you, mister, on account of the short notice, but…" he picked up a pair of red khaki shorts and a plain white t-shirt. "I reckoned this ought to fit you." The manager looked at Arthur for approval, but he only crossed his arms over his chest.

"And…" Arthur moved his hands in a circle, coaxing the man to continue.

The manager resisted a snort, and settled for a labored sigh instead. "And then them other clothes for her," the greasy man rushed out quickly, the words were jumbled and hardly coherent due to speed, but they still left a bitter taste in his mouth. The colored girl had no business being in his motel, _especially_ in his best room. What was the world coming to?

Arthur closed his eyes momentarily, as he suppressed the homicidal thoughts which the manager evoked in him. To think: he had dealt with people like him his whole life, and Arthur still hadn't gone off the deep end yet? "Thanks for your trouble," he said halfheartedly.

The small man merely nodded, heading straight for the door.

Arthur walked behind the manager, making sure he bolted the door shut. "That rat bastard."

"How many times are you going to call him that, Arthur?" Gwen asked moving to the table, curious to see what it was she was to wear until her clothes dried.

"I'll say it a thousand times over," he too moved towards the table too. "He wouldn't even _look _at you Guinevere. The nerve of some people," he growled. "He's full of shit, he is. A slimy scum-sucking maggot—"

Gwen laughed at Arthur's insults with a shake of her head. "Arthur! You should have pity on him, feel sorry for his ignorance. Anyhow, he's gone now." Eagerly, Gwen picked up the white short sleeved shirt and black shorts. She held them against her body, before tilting her head in approval. "I think they'll do, don't you?" Gwen held the shorts against her thigh before slightly frowning. "Jeez, they're actually really short! Who does he think I am?"

Arthur couldn't help but grin, earning him a tight glare from Guinevere.

"Really, Arthur?"

Arthur's grin broke into a full smile. "There are no complaints here!" Arthur moved just in time to avoid the playful punch which Guinevere threw his way. "I've got the world's sexiest woman all to myself, with nothing to wear but—"

"Arthur!" Gwen shrieked, as she automatically felt she should cover herself in some way.

"What, are you uncomfortable?" Arthur asked with a chuckle.

"No…yes! Oh, I don't know—just go change!" Gwen exclaimed, her thoughts jumbling together.

Arthur snatched his clothes off the table, giving Gwen a peck on the cheek. "You're even sexier when you're embarrassed," he whispered, his lips brushing against his ear. He held up his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I'm moving—see?"

Gwen watched Arthur rush off to the bathroom, with his clothes in tow. She looked at her own clothing, or lack thereof, before sitting on the edge of the king sized bed, taking a moment to recuperate. She was surprised how she was able to maintain a semblance of normalcy convincing enough to fool Arthur. In actuality, there was an emotional tempest brewing within her, and her mind threatened to explode, discharging thoughts and worries about the large room.

Gwen stood, unbuttoning the front of her cold and wet dress, before slipping it off with minimal difficulty. "What will I say?" She asked herself hazily, before quickly reprimanding herself_. Of course you'll say yes! But how…there's no way Arthur and I could be married! Oh my goodness, marriage! _Gwen shrieked in her mind, before collapsing back onto the bed. _ My sweet Arthur, he's always so full of plans. I wonder what he'll say, what he has cooked up this time. _Gwen smiled, before her expression was quickly replaced with a frown. _Daddy will literally murder me with his bare hands, and Elliot will gladly help him bury my shallow unmarked grave—. Dear God, what about Arthur's family business; if we're married, we can wave 'bye bye' to that! What about_ his_ papa? He could ruin us; crush us like ants with the snap of his rich and influential fingers. There's so much at stake…maybe it wasn't an engagement ring, anyhow. _Gwen wasn't able to convince herself with any rational arguments. _Of course it was a ring, you dummy! You should've just opened the darn thing to make sure. Bound in matrimony with Arthur for the rest of our lives…Mrs. Guinevere Pendragon. I quite like the sound of that—and being his forever. Of course I'll say yes_,_ I honestly never thought of any other answer. _Gwen felt a warm sensation overtake her as all of the positive possibilities flooded her imagination, quickly pushing out the ugly ones.

"Gwen, are you decent?" Arthur asked from the bathroom.

Gwen was immediately snapped out of her thoughts, realizing that she was sitting on the bed solely clad in her bra and underwear. "Hold up one minute!" She quickly put the shirt over her head, and slid—danced into her shorts. She groaned as she looked down at the black shorts. They were so small. She was hardly insecure about her body, it was a little difficult to be unconfident with Arthur telling her all the time how gorgeous she was, and how much he _wanted _her. But that was just it—she didn't want to subject Arthur to an entire night of carnal torment. She knew how hard he was trying to treat her like a true Southern gentleman, and she knew the small and tight outfit wouldn't help much.

"Guinevere, what are you doing out there?" Arthur asked impatiently.

"You can come out now!"

The door to the bathroom quickly swung open, and Arthur emerged with perfectly fitting attire. Go figure. He stopped short, his eyes becoming large as he looked at Gwen.

Gwen became uncomfortable after about five seconds of silence, and her shoulders slumped. "Arthur, quit gawking at me."

"Sorry, you're just so beautiful," Arthur mumbled.

"You tell me all the time. It's hard to forget."

"Because it's true all the time. Here: close your eyes. I have something special for you."

Gwen felt her heart skip a beat, as she swallowed before obeying. The moment her eyes shut, her legs felt like jell-o. "Can I sit on the bed, Arthur?" Her voice only wavered slightly.

"Even better."

Gwen could feel Arthur walking past her, and then the mattress indent as he positioned himself behind her.

"Keep your eyes closed."

Gwen held her breath. She felt Arthur's large hands around her neck, and felt the familiar coolness of a silver chain around her neck. Her hands remained at her side.

"I figured I oughta give this to you. It's past due, don't you think?"

Though she wasn't supposed to, she opened her eyes, smiling as she looked down at the sapphire necklace which Arthur had purchased for her birthday.

"You sort of gave it back to me on bad terms. But now that that's over, I want you to have it again."

Gwen turned around to give Arthur a hug. "I love it so much, Arthur. And I missed it, because when you weren't around, it reminded me of you."

Arthur held Gwen tightly, speaking into her neck. "There's so much history in that necklace."

"I know. And it's strange that you give it to me now because Merlin had—"

Arthur snapped his fingers, nearly pushing Gwen off of him. "Merlin! I need to call him! Oh God, I hope it's not too late." Clumsily, Arthur nearly leaped for the telephone at the side of the bed, startling Gwen.

"Arthur, what on earth?"

Arthur quickly dialed the familiar number, looking at Gwen as the phone rang. "I need Merlin to cover for me. He doesn't know what's happened."

"Hello? This is Merlin here."

"Merlin! It's Arthur—"

"Arthur!" Merlin burst out, causing Arthur to pull the receiver away from his ears momentarily. "I've been jittery all day, you have no idea—actually, you probably do! So, this_ is_ good news, right? Oh God, please tell me it's good news!" Merlin asked excitedly and suddenly he became out of breath with laughter. "Did she cry? She wept, didn't she? I'm _so_ happy for y'all—"

"No Merlin, it's not what you think," Arthur said quietly, mindful of Gwen's proximity.

There was a pause on the other end. "Huh? Oh man, oh man…I'm so sorry Arthur," Merlin whispered.

"Merlin, please. I've had 'bout all the drama I can handle in one day. It's not_ that_: my piece of shit car decided to break down in the middle of the road," Arthur sighed as he rubbed his temples.

"So she didn't—"

"Yeah," Arthur said quickly, cutting Merlin off. "Gwen's right here,_ next_ to me."

"Oh, gotcha," Merlin whispered. "So what's going on, then?"

"My ride broke down: damn spark plug went out on me. Just my luck too, it's storming somethin' fierce over here. Guinevere and I had to check into a motel; that was a little misadventure in itself. But it wasn't nothing cold hard cash couldn't fix. But I need you to—"

"Cover for you, huh?"

"You know me too well, Merlin," Arthur said with a hearty chuckle. "I'll call my Dad and tell him I just decided to crash at your house—that we're studying or something. Okay?"

"Anything for the sake of young love."

Arthur rolled his eyes, sitting on the bed next to Guinevere.

"By the way, you know you missed our exam review session today?"

"…Uhh…what exam review?"

"For our economics class."

"Ahh, damn it…" Arthur groaned, rubbing his forehead. "I forgot about that dumb thing. Did I miss a lot?"

"Not too much, but I'm sure it would've been helpful."

"I do alright in economics, though. I'm not worried 'bout that exam."

"Well, Morgana wasn't too happy 'bout it. She thinks you're fixing to fail out."

Arthur scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. "Morgana's never happy these days; I don't know what her problem is. No one's failing outta anything."

The only noise on the other end was Merlin's breathing.

"Oh well; I'll just wing the exam. Anyhow, I've got bigger things to deal with than some puny economics exam."

"Amen to that. Good luck, okay? Don't be nervous, it'll all go well. And call me if—when she says yes."

"Sure," Arthur said quickly. "Thanks again Merlin." Arthur quickly put the receiver back in its cradle, only to find Gwen staring at him. "What?"

"I don't like it when you skip your classes."

"It wasn't on purpose this time."

Gwen's eyes narrowed, indicating that she did not believe him. Gwen shook her head, before looking down at the sorry state of her cuticles. "I just thought you were taking things seriously now," she said with a dissatisfied shrug.

Arthur wriggled against the bed. "I am," he said quietly, diverting his eyes for a moment, before looking back up at her. "I am," he said more forcefully the second time.

Gwen too turned on her side, pushing some hair out of her face. "Look, Arthur," Gwen began as her index finger traced a circle on his chest, "You have a business—a kingdom of your own—which will be under your command one day."

"I know, Guinevere."

"And I just don't want you to mess things up because you got tired or bored, or whatever. You're better than that, and I wanna see you do well because I love you." Gwen took a deep breath before uttering her last sentence. Her fingers trailed upward, grazing his shoulder blade. "You're gonna be the best president Dragon Real Estate will ever have, I know it."

Arthur looked Gwen in her brown eyes which were soft with compassion. "I'm not cut out for it, Guinevere."

Gwen only blinked, as her hand stopped its movement. "You keep telling yourself that, and it's not true," she encouraged him gently.

"I'm just Arthur Pendragon: I've got a president's ego, but not a president's skills. Sometimes I think I'll bankrupt the company my first quarter. The moment I sign the dotted line, and become president of Dragon, is the day its legacy is destroyed. I—" Arthur stopped, looking at Gwen's chin rather than her eyes. "I hate to admit this out loud…"

Gwen tucked some hair behind her ear. "You can tell me anything, Arthur."

"I have this overwhelming fear that I'm gonna let everyone down. My Dad, you, Stella—everyone thinks I'm just like my Dad, and I'll be a superstar. But I'm not even close to ready, I don't think I'll ever be. Plus, most people just see me as the drunk chain-smoking, skirt-chasing screw up. I don't even know if I can earn their respect."

"But that's why you went to Charleston. You said it yourself: everyone respected you at those meetings. Sure, there will be greedy people who try to undermine you, but I think you're selling yourself short." Gwen paused, before something came to mind. "You remember that day when you and your buddy Roger ended up rolling 'round in that fight?"

"I'll never forget that day; I wanted to bash his worthless head into the pavement, and I would've if I wasn't stopped."

"I'm glad that didn't happen, but was still a grateful damsel in distress, and you were my white knight in shining armor."

Arthur grinned at the analogy. "I could get used to the sound of that…"

"But the next day going to work, I wasn't sure how things would be. I didn't really know you then, but you fascinated me, oh, you really did! You practically demanded that I talk to you, and dragged me into that room. It actually frightened me, because I thought I was in trouble."

"You did?"

"Oh, of course. And I remember the rest as if it were yesterday: I was hiding my bruised hand behind my back, because I was too embarrassed to show it."

Arthur couldn't help but interject once more. "It was all black and blue, I felt so sorry for you."

"And it showed. The way you talked to me…you were so caring and compassionate, you were actually worried 'bout me. You were so gentle, and that caught me off guard more than anything. And then, you asked if you could see my wrist, and I really didn't want to, but when you get all somber and serious your eyes turn this dark blue—I couldn't say no. Your hands were extremely cold that day, but it felt good against my swollen wrist, but that wasn't it. It was like…" Gwen struggled for the words.

"A spark? You felt it then too?"

"It was like a thousand hot shockwaves went throughout me. I basically told you to let go; but it wasn't 'cause I wanted you to. It's just—I knew better. God honest truth, I'll never forget what you said after that. 'I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I wouldn't let him hurt you'."

"I said that?"

"You sure did. Now_ that's_ the kind of man who _should_ run Dragon Real Estate; someone who cares for others and does the right thing no matter the consequences. The world of business needs more men like you; people with integrity. You're right: you're not like your dad, because you've learned what it means to treat someone with respect. That's what a leader needs: all the other stuff will come, I promise."

Arthur's hand cupped Gwen's cheek lovingly. "You really think all of that?"

"I know it Arthur, I believe in you. And I don't know a lick 'bout no economics, but I'll learn it with you, by golly. And I'll help you Arthur; I'll stay up every night and study with you if you want, I swear it, I will."

Arthur leaned over, kissing his eyes as he gave Gwen a kiss, his hands moving to rest on her hips as she reciprocated with a content sigh. He pushed himself up slightly so he hovered over her. "Guinevere, thank you," he said pushing some of her curls to the side. "I'm really trying my best not to let you down."

"I know, I know Arthur," she whispered, as she felt tears brimming at Arthur's confession. He always had a way with words which made her all emotional, and she was always at a loss for what to say. "I'm trying to do the same."

* * *

><p>Father Soma sat in his large leather office chair, sipping at his hot tea as he looked out of his large window, contemplating his dilemma further, as he had all day. He had busied himself with a variety of other tasks, only to avoid the most important one. He was on his second cup of tea, sitting in his comfortable chair as he watched the sun set behind the large church. The large rain drops beat against his window, providing the only noise within his solitary , he realized the task could not be put off for a moment longer. He felt like he should say a prayer before opening the large manila folder at the corner of his desk, bet he knew if he delayed for a moment longer he would never do it. But it was for Arthur and after all the young man had been through, the priest felt like it was his obligation to aid him in his struggles. He deserved happiness, finally.<p>

Father Soma quickly opened the folder which the parish secretary had obtained for him upon request that morning. He quickly skimmed the single entry from the church's registry, skipping the house number which he had memorized, searching for the applicant's office number. "Old friend, I need your help," Father said with a smile, as he dialed the number he had avoided all day. He was embarrassed at his lack of nerve, and found himself holding his breath until he heard someone answer the other line.

"Hello, this is Wilson and Associates, Ella Mae speaking; how may I help you?"

Father Soma took a nerve wracking breath, making sure his thick voice was steady before continuing. "Yes, I would like to speak to Mr. Wilson, this is Father Soma." He heard some papers being moved on the other line..

"Sir, do you have an appointment with Mr. Wilson."

"No."

"Well, he's booked with meetings and events for the next three weeks. I can pencil you in sometime—"

"Please just tell him it's Father Franco from the parish, and it's an emergency. He'll make time for me."

The sweet-voiced secretary still sounded unsure. "Uhm, okay, yes sir. Hold on just a moment."

As Father was put on hold, he noted that the rain was steadily increasing—it was always raining these days.

"Yes sir," the secretary returned. "I'm transferring you over to Mr. Wilson right away."

"Thank you."

After a moment, a man answered the line. "Hello? This is Gaius Wilson."

"Ahh Gaius, old friend. How are you?" Father Soma asked cheerfully.

"How do you do, Father? I'm just swell, thanks. I reckon these old bones are a little creakier than they once were, but I'm chugging through. Late night at the office though."

"What else is new? We ought to meet for lunch sometime, I feel like we haven't spoken for years!"

Gaius laughed. "It's only been a couple of months since we sat down for a serious chat."

"Well Gaius, I'll get straight to the point 'cause I know you're a very busy man, and I can hardly afford your time."

"No charge at all for you, Father. Is this 'bout that favor you asked of me last week?"

"Yes, you remember?" Father Soma had called Gaius at home last week to inform him that he had a parishioner who may be in need of his services. He sounded receptive then, and hoped nothing had changed.

"It was a very peculiar conversation—If I remember correctly, you were awfully vague. In fact, it made me a little uneasy…"

"I'm afraid I can't say much about it over the telephone—"

"Is this friend of yours some government agent?" Gaius joked with another raspy laugh, only to be met by silence from Father's end. "…Wait, is he?"

"No, no, no. But this is utterly confidential. Absolutely no one can know of this meeting."

"I would do anything for you Father, but I'm sorry to say that I'm still confused as to what you'd have me do for this mysterious fellow."

"He just needs some guidance of your caliber and you're the only person I trust to take care of him, old friend," Father Soma sighed, rubbing his wrinkleless forehead. "Honestly, it's a convoluted mess. Many parties are involved."

"I fix convoluted messes for a living; that's what I am, a fixer," Gaius replied automatically. "Forgive me for asking Father, but this _is _on the up and up…right?"

"I wouldn't ask of you anything illegal."

"Well, when do I meet this confidential project?"

"It's best if he doesn't go to your office—"

"And why not?"

"This matter is delicate, and you share your building with other companies. I fear what would happen if one of your other colleagues saw him."

"This must be quite serious."

"Perhaps you could meet with him in a restaurant? Something common and low key?"

"Cid's Diner isn't far from my building, tell him to meet me there."

"And the sooner we start this, the better. I'll see him on Monday, could you meet him later that day?"

"I'll make time for him at 7 o'clock, and tell him I don't put up with late clients."

"Gaius, I do not know how to thank you!"

"Could you at least tell me what this man looks like, so I'm not caught completely off guard?"

"He's young—early twenties."

"Early twenties…?" All of Gaius Wilson's clients were at least middle aged. "He must be one successful young man."

Father Soma couldn't resist a laugh. "Old friend, I'm not even sure if 'successful' is the appropriate word for him. But he'll know you, don't worry." Father Soma heard a knock at his office door, and put the receiver to his chest. "Just a minute!" He addressed Gaius once again. "Thanks old friend. We'll surely be in touch."

* * *

><p>Arthur couldn't help his hands, which gently trailed Gwen's pony tail, taking in the lavender scent of her curls happily. The hand which wasn't lost in Gwen's tresses rested on her middle, rising and falling steadily along with her back against his chest. He held her securely, smiling as he realized Gwen's toes had become entwined with his own under the warm sheets. Her body fit so perfectly against his own, that half of the king sized bed was rendered useless.<p>

But come Monday everything would be back to normal, and moments like these would only be a memory. He and Gwen would play their parts as always, finding satisfaction in fleeting touches, longing gazes and swift hushed conversations wherever they could. Elliot would still be out of the house and Gwen worried sick over him. Arthur would have to endure yet another day of classes, gritting his teeth together as he rubbed shoulders with two criminals which he used to call friends, and deftly avoiding Vivian's antics and Morgana's bad moods. It would be another typical day. He sighed heavily at the realization.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" Gwen asked, her voice devoid of any sign of drowsiness.

"I thought you were sleeping," Arthur continued to stroke her hair.

"I can't."

"Join the club. I'm just here, thinking."

"Me too. I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that I'm here in a motel with you, and not at home in my own bed."

"Hey, I have no complaints—we got the honeymoon suite."

Gwen giggled for a moment, the vibrations making a direct impact to Arthur's warm chest. "And everything with the car is settled?"

Arthur resisted a primal grunt. "No thanks to that so called mechanic."

"I hope you weren't really that rude to him."

"He deserved it."

Arthur, with the help of some more cash, was able to persuade the motel manager to give him a ride to a nearby gas station to seek assistance for his car. The drive to the station was silent and awkward, as Arthur concluded the man wasn't worth his time, and the manager still too embarrassed that he had been swayed with cash for the second time that day. Arthur had called the station in advance, and a mechanic had been waiting with the spark plug and spare wire. By time the trio had reached Arthur's abandoned Aston Martin, the rain had nearly let up all together, but the sky remained gray and overcast. It was quickly apparent to Arthur however that the self-proclaimed "mechanic" was more of an inbred fool than the manager, and Arthur ended up pushing the burly man aside, and fixing the problem himself. He had come back frustrated, and told Gwen what had happened.

Arthur grumbled slightly. "He was an idiot who was fixing to screw up the car even worse. We had enough problems today, thank you very much. Now, we should get home like smooth sailing."

Gwen stared out the window, where the sole source of light came, partially illuminating the dark room with the artificial street lamps. "You have a real way with cars, you know."

"When I was younger, my Dad would be gone for much of the summer, and I tagged along a lot with Clarence. He taught me about cars, and the rest I read up on or learned in high school." Arthur chuckled at the memory which he was about to share. "When I was thirteen, I told my dad I wanted to work with cars—he laughed in my face. He said it was only a hobby, and no respectable son of his would be a grease monkey. But for some reason, he still let me take car repair classes in high school." Arthur said with a chuckle. "He probably thought it would appease me in some way."

Gwen kept her back to Arthur, but placed her hand over his, gently rubbing the new calluses on his finger tips. There was a dense silence for a minute or two, each relishing the secure embrace of the other. "I'd rather stay in this room with you, than deal with all of the morons I seem to be surrounded by.

"I know, Guinevere, I know," Arthur said somberly, his fingers running through her hair.

Gwen turned around in a singular fluid movement, finally facing Arthur, with her face only a few inches away from his. Arthur repositioned his hand to her the dip in her hips, as Gwen's bare leg covered his own. She smiled as his "fuzzy" legs tickled against her smooth skin.

"I have half the mind to just pack up a duffel bag, and drive off with you—with the top down. We'll drive as far as we want, and start again. We'd go somewhere where I can take care of you like I should."

"Your Dad would cut you off."

Arthur's fingers stopped their exploration. "Don't you worry about that."

"He would ruin us financially and socially—"

"I _said_ not to worry 'bout that, Guinevere," Arthur's voice had a bit of a bite this time. "I'll keep you safe: especially from my dad. Sure, I'm totally unprepared to run the company, but I still want to. But if it came down to you and the company, I'd rather be a poor man with you, than a fat cat without you."

"I know, Arthur. I have no doubts of your loyalties."

Arthur pulled Gwen closer to him, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Just be a little more patient with me Gwen. I promise, I'll work everything out, okay? Just don't give up on me."

"I won't."

"Soon, it'll be just you and me. You just gotta trust me."

* * *

><p><em>Morgana sat at the long wooden dining table, slowly eating her roasted chicken as she looked out the window just in time to see a couple of blue jays fly past. She watched the landscapers trim the ornate hedges by the water fountain, their dark skin directly contrasting with the white jumpsuits they were required to wear. She never understood why they were forced to wear white when they worked with dirt for a living.<em>

_The rustle of Uther's morning paper snapped Morgana out of her thoughtful gaze. "Any minute now, and we should be getting the call." Uther nervously looked at his expensive watch. "It's literally been _hours_. I'm bursting at the seams!" Uther nearly sang in excitement. They were his first words that day to his niece._

"_Maybe she had some complications."_

"_Nonsense."_

"_You know how dangerous it can be with twins…Something was bound to go wrong." Morgana stated blandly._

_Uther's gray brow furrowed as he set down his newspaper, rubbing his upper lip. "Would you quit being so morbid? I figured you'd be lifting up a prayer for her, not saying such ghastly things."_

"_It wasn't ghastly Uncle, just realistic—probable."_

"_She's got the best doctors in the country looking after her. Nothing went wrong, I'm sure."_

_Morgana continued to eat in silence. _

"_Gwen's pregnancy has gone along without a single hitch, so don't you jinx it now. Plus, I spoke with her yesterday; the sweet lamb, she's so excited. Arthur is a nervous wreck though. She's the one comforting and calming_ him_," Uther explained with a gleeful chuckle. "He loves those babies so much already."_

_Morgana continued to pick at the spinach salad which was at the edge of her plate, listening to her Uncle gush as he had been doing for the past six months._

"_Two grandchildren at a time: I am a mightily blessed man. I wonder if they'll have two boys? Or maybe two girls, or—"_

"_Uncle:" Morgana nearly snapped, her words much sharper than she intended. "Gwen's in the hospital as we speak. She's fixing to pop at any moment if she hasn't already: we'll know soon enough."_

_Uther frowned. "You sound excited…"_

"_I am excited, I'm just sick of everyone talking 'bout it!" Morgana snapped as her fork collided with the wooden table in frustration. "All I hear is 'babies this' and 'babies that'. I'm happy for them, but by golly, I don't need to hear 'bout the twins every single waking moment! They're not even here yet, and everyone's making a fuss like they're royalty or something. When the twins come out then everyone can throw a big party. But until then, every single word doesn't have to be 'bout them." Morgana threw her dark hair off of her shoulders with a huff. _

_Uther shook his head, picking up his newspaper once again. "Arthur and Gwen were overjoyed for you and Little Mordred. You'd think you'd return the favor."_

"_It's different with me and Mordred," Morgana bitterly informed her uncle._

_Uther ignored Morgana's last comment, picking up the linen cloth on his lap. His motion abruptly froze as the ring of the kitchen telephone pierced the dense silence. Faster than a speeding bullet, Uther jumped up, his small eyes illuminating as his smile overtook his wrinkled face. He rubbed his hands together, as he chuckled gleefully. "They're here! I know it!" Uther took a few steps, before stopping as he heard Stella exclaim from the kitchen. _

"_Congratulations, Arthur!" Stella cried. Clapping hands could be heard as she continued. "Give Gwen my love, sugar! You're a papa now, I still can't hardly believe it!"_

_Uther rushed out of the living room, with Morgana sluggishly trailing behind. "Give me the phone, Stella," he said quickly, stretching his arms out. The receiver nearly slipped from his sweaty and shaking palms. He looked around at the dark glowing faces of the staff which surrounded him, and he could hear a rush of excited feet scurry from all directions and more pile into the kitchen and adjacent hall to hear the news. "Hello, Arthur?" Uther asked, out of breath from the excitement. "Are the babies healthy? Is Gwen alright?"_

"_Yes! Everyone's great, the labor was nine hours but—"_

_Uther put the phone to the chest, as he addressed the increasing crowd. "The babies are healthy! It took nine hours!" A roar of laughter and applause erupted from the staff._

"_It sounds like we have an audience: tell 'em you're now the grandfather of another little boy and a girl!"_

"_Well done, Arthur!" Uther exclaimed with a laugh. "One of each, you're a lucky man!"_

_Suddenly, the noise of the kitchen and halls overtook the phone conversation, as questions spread like wild fire. _

"_What do they look like, then? I bet they have their daddy's eyes, and mama's curls!"_

"_Tell him to send pictures of 'em right away!"_

"_Nine hour labor? Lord bless her!"_

"_When's the baptism? We're invited, right?—I sure hope so!"_

"_How big are they? I bet they'll be gorgeous plump little things."_

"_Isn't that just darlin'? A girl and a boy; their first try!"_

"_Wait y'all, wait—_" _Stella's voice cut through the multitudes as she turned to address Uther_. _"What'd they name 'em, then?"_

"_Goodness me! Arthur this excitement is too much for this old man to handle! What'd you name them, son?" Uther asked with a wide smile, holding the phone closely to his ear in a futile attempt to drown out the background noise. _

"_We named the boy Thomas, and Igraine for Mom."_

"_Y-y-you named her Igraine?" Uther said softly._

_The audience hushed as they heard Uther's quiet repetition._

"_What a sweet thing to do," Alice said, her voice hitching in her throat._

"_His mama would be so proud; God rest her," Marge said with a thoughtful shake of her head._

"_Hey y'all," Uther yelled putting the phone to his chest once again. "Their names are Igraine and Thomas! After their grandparents."_

_Morgana's hands shot up to cover her ears as she cringed at the loud joyful noise which erupted from the kitchen and nearby halls. _

"_Gwen's been asking for you, Dad."_

"_Yes! Put the new mom on the line!"_

Morgana woke up with a start as she felt her shoulders which were damp with sweat being shaken vigorously by cold and clammy hands.

"C'mon girl, it's time to wake up!"

"Jesus, get off of me!" Morgana snapped, about to push whoever was throttling her, but they moved out of the way.

Vivian took a step back, her bright eyes wide with fright. "I was just waking you up, it's near ten o'clock."

Morgana rubbed her eyes, as she quickly turned away from the sun, pulling her dark purple covers back over her head. "Go the hell away, I'm tired, and it's a Sunday for Pete's sake…"

"You are not a mornin' person, are you?" Vivian asked with a tilt of her head. "You were talking in your sleep too, like you were having a bad conversation with someone, or pitching a fit. It was freaky."

Morgana slowly revealed her head from underneath the sheets. "I was?"

"You sounded crazy."

Morgana emitted a guttural growl, and a rubbed of her sore eyes. "Is Romeo back home?"

"Uhh, who?"

Morgana threw her covers off; they were sticking to her skin. "Arthur, is _Arthur_ home?"

"What do you mean 'is he home'? Isn't he on yonder 'cross the hall in his room, sleeping?" Vivian asked pointing towards Morgana's bedroom door.

"He didn't come home last night," Morgana said dangling her warm feet over the bed.

Vivian covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing as she looked at Morgana's disheveled hair.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he was with his little _Guinevere_ somewhere. Because Uncle is a fool, he thinks he's at Merlin's house but I know he's not. They're becoming more brazen with each day." Morgana dragged her bare feet to the window, before noting: "It's still raining."

Vivian looked over her shoulder and out of the window as well. "It's sprinkling, but it's supposed to pick up again later."

"Hmmm," Morgana said with a mild stretch of her arms. She ran a hand through her long hair with a sigh. "I had a bad dream. A really bad one."

"Was some crazy axe-murderer chasing you, or inside your house? 'Cause I have those dreams _all the_ time!"

Morgana looked at Vivian, before deciding against commenting on her question. "What the—no; it was one of my Arthur and Gwen dreams."

"Oh…." Vivian said quietly. "You haven't had one of them in a while."

"True," Morgana began, still looking out the window vacantly. "But this one was…different. It was detailed—usually the first time I have a dream it's in a fog. It's only the third or fourth time I have the same dream that it becomes clear. No—this one was crisp and vibrant; I've never had one like that before. I can remember every word, I could see everyone's faces so clearly…Vivian, I could even hear their thoughts. And by golly, it was fluid, like it was really happening!" Morgana burst out excitedly, before solemnly adding: "It was…powerful. So much was going on, I was struggling to take it all in, I could _feel _it."

"Powerful?" Vivian asked sitting on the edge of Morgana's bed.

"Like—it was too real to be _just_ a dream." Morgana swiftly turned to face Vivian, a tight frown emerging on her pale face. "It must've been a vision, or something."

Vivian snorted, holding her hands up. "Don't be goin' all voodoo on me…"

"I'm not! Gwen was pregnant in the dream, but I didn't actually see her. But I was sitting with Uncle, and we were waiting for a call to say the babies came; twins. There was a whole hullabaloo over it."

Vivian raised an eyebrow as she listened to Morgana with blatant skepticism. This must have been her tired state speaking. "Okay then…if this was a vision, what'd they name their kids then?"

"Thomas and Igraine," Morgana answered with a second thought.

Vivian opened her mouth for a quick retort, before closing it when she heard Morgana's rapid response. It was clear she wasn't making it up—not that part at least. "Your Uncle would_ never_ let a _mulatto_ sucker be named after his wife."

"I know...something else was weird too; _ everyone_ was all happy-clappy 'bout it." Morgana paused, before softly adding: "Uncle doesn't even get excited anymore."

Vivian waved a dismissive hand with a gentle snort. "It's just your imagination at work. It seems that you're dreams are actually your worst fears, that's all—I don't think they're visions. People don't even get visions any more, do they?"

"No…this one meant something," Morgana insisted with wide expressive eyes which unnerved Vivian. "They're like warnings, can't you see?" Morgana burst out quickly, making Vivian jump. "All have them have been snippets of what the future will be! Oh my God, I've been such a fool? How did I not realize this!" Morgana's became more expressive with each word.

"Uhh…say what?"

Morgana threw her head back in laughter; finally, answers! "Haven't you noticed that all of my dreams are realistic, to some degree? They're all showing Arthur and Gwen making a life together, and how everyone is affected."

"I think you're taking this a little too—"

"Just listen to me! Think about it—whenever people are given visions, they're always warnings of what's to come if something isn't remedied, or giving answers on how to fix something."

"You're forgetting one thing though: when people have visions, they actually_ happen_. That's the difference between a vision and a dream. And in case you haven't noticed, none of your dreams have actually _happened_. Not even parts of them. I'm telling you, they're just fears. You're makin' a mountain outta an ant hill."

Morgana could literally feel herself vibrating with anger, and her fists clenched at her side. Vivian couldn't understand; she hadn't experienced the power of the vision. No, Vivian Remington hadn't been chosen like her—she would never fully understand.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **What could Father Soma be up to now? Wait—what about the ring! And has Morgana finally taken the last step off the deep end...and has Lorenzo fallen off of the face of the earth! I don't know...I guess we'll have to wait and see...


	33. Chapter 33

_Before you read this chapter, it may behoove you to read Morgana's dream from Chapter 32. I really had fun with this one, and I hope this answers some questions and raises others! I hope you enjoy it, and you're able to scoot a little off of the edge of your seat…or maybe I want to push you further. I'm not sure yet…_

_Spread the word about MLMS, tell your friends, add me to your story alert, and leave me a comment! I can't even begin to count to number I've times I've made myself look like a complete idiot with laughter, because I was in a public place reading a review. Ahh...the joys of funny and thoughtful eaders!_

_Also, a proper cover for MLMS is coming soon._** "****2sam1_0_1"**_ on tumblr has been gracious enough to accept the job! I am so excited, and I'm sure it'll be a masterpiece rivaling the Mona Lisa. If you can appreciate brilliant fan art, then you will definitely love her page on tumblr, go check it out! Also, much thanks always to **"Sunnydale"** on Twitter who has helped increase readership, and is never shy to hashtag: #MLMS!_

_ Happy reading! _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 33: Dream On, Dreamer<strong>

Arthur watched the glowing embers at the bottom of his cigarette before he exhaled a gray cloud of smoke, flicking away more ashes. Some gardeners passed him holding their tools, nodding in acknowledgement, and he returned the gesture with another drag, quickly peering over his shoulder to make sure that Gwen wasn't watching him indulge in his smoke from a distance. With a sigh, Arthur rested against the stone pillar of the outside stair case, impatiently checking his watch.

"C'mon, Merlin…we can't be late," he whispered to himself in quiet agitation. It was already seven a.m., and he didn't want to be tardy for his crucial meeting which was set to take place in thirty minutes. The inconveniences of having his car in the repair shop seemed to be infinite.

Arthur decided to pass the time away by humming a new tune, and lighting a fresh cigarette as he crushed the old butt into the ground. He could feel the disapproving glare of the gardeners burning a hole into his back as they undoubtedly watched him litter "their" grounds. "Guinevere would murder me if she saw…" Arthur laughed to himself as he imagined her reaction. "I'll take a shower before she sees me," Arthur justified his actions. "Finally!" Arthur threw his hands up in joy, as he saw Merlin's car pause at the cast-iron gate to be let in. Arthur pushed himself off of the pillar, smiling with the cigarette between his lips, as his companion's car came to a screeching halt before him.

Merlin hurriedly reached over, opening the passenger door from the inside. "C'mon and get in, we'll be late!"

"You're telling me?" Arthur asked, quickly jumping into the seat with a thud.

"I'm sorry, I woke up late—"

"Don't sweat it, we'll still make it there on time."

Merlin, with both hands on the large wheel, looked at Arthur, grinning from large ear to ear. "So…" He began, his smile becoming wider as he let the monosyllabic word hang.

Arthur shook his head sadly. "Nothing happened."

Merlin immediately frowned as he pulled out of the estate. "What do you mean, 'nothing happened'?"

Arthur lifted up in his seat slightly, taking the black velvet box out of his pocket. "I'm gonna need you to hold onto it for a little while longer."

"Ah, c'mon Arthur! What the hell happened? Everything was a sure go!"

"I can't keep the ring anywhere at my house, can I? Guinevere will find it—"

"No, that ring oughta be on her finger, not still up in the box—in my car!"

Arthur turned away, hoping Merlin would drop the subject, but he knew better.

Merlin looked at his friend who quietly smoked in contentment, and he scoffed. "Do you have _any_ idea what I had to go through to make everything perfect? Do you even care? Please, tell me how much time you _think _it takes to buy all of those candles, trek out to that cabin in the middle of nowhere, and then set them all up? Don't forget, I even had five star dinner prepared and champagne for _after_ the proposal!" Merlin's voice rose in increments, as he listed all of the things he had done for Arthur's big day. "Jeez, I hope you know I'm not doin' all of that again. No siree; you can find another friend who's fool enough to go through all of that."

Arthur rolled down the window, smirking at Merlin's little outburst. "You're a good friend, thank you—"

"Shut your trap; you don't mean it."

"I do, I do. I know you did everything you could to help."

"You still haven't told me what exactly happened." Merlin was quickly losing his patience.

"Do you have short-term memory loss, or somethin'? My piece of junk car, which is now in the shop, broke down; I only got home at around noon time yesterday. We didn't make it out to the nice cabin with all of those candles, and all of the other extra stuff. We spent the night eating order-in Italian food and talking, remember?"

"From what I understand, y'all got the honeymoon suite; you could've asked her there."

"Are you crazy?" Arthur asked, turning in his seat towards Merlin, his eyebrows shooting up at the ludicrous suggestion. "C'mon, at least give me some credit for _trying_ to be romantic! I just wanted everything to be perfect. I don't need a jumbo-jet writing words in the sky or nothin'…I just want her to remember it."

Merlin's face softened. "Listen to you: sitting over there with your cigarette, all sentimental and stuff."

"I'll pay you back for the candles, don't worry."

"It's no skin off my nose: I'll gladly do it for the sake of young love," Merlin quickly negated his previous statements.

"Would you quit saying that?" Arthur insisted after a long drag. "It's creepy."

Merlin ignored the request. "So when's take two?"

Arthur rolled the cigarette between his fingers, as he shrugged. "I don't know."

"…You don't know?"

"The time needs to be right. I think it's good I didn't do it this weekend after all. I want to propose when everything's finished and in order. I don't want us to be engaged, and be in a state of limbo. I want to be able to say: 'Guinevere, I've got everything covered, and this is how things are gonna go'. How can I expect her to say yes with all the uncertainties? No, I wanna be a little more stable."

"You sound so mature, I can't believe it," Merlin said with a chuckle, and a glad shake of his head. "But everything will work out, I promise."

"I can't lie: I thought about doing it—proposing to her that night, but I also got _so_ nervous. I would've made a fool out of myself. There was just too much going on. I just want to put all of this shit behind me," Arthur threw his cigarette butt out of the window.

"We're going to meet Father Soma now, but then what?"

"I don't know. I haven't spoken with him in a couple of days. He said he would get some contacts together; people who could help me.

Merlin whistled. "Wheew, he's really sticking his neck out for you."

"I know. I just hope he's got some ideas, 'cause I'm spent."

"Father always thinks of something." Merlin applied his brakes at the intersection, reaching over to pick up the ring box, putting it in his interior jacket pocket. "I hope you know I don't intend to hold this thing for much longer."

* * *

><p>Merlin and Arthur stepped out of the car simultaneously thirty minutes later, finding a parking spot not too far away from the church. Their feet crunched against the loose gravel which made up the parking lot, and the two young men maintained a brisk pace, each adjusting their clothing to make sure they were presentable.<p>

Merlin looked around at the cars which surrounded them. "What's going on, daily Mass?"

Arthur merely nodded, checking his wrist-watch as they neared the church doors. "Father should just be wrapping up now, c'mon let's hurry."

A few church goers emerged from the entrance; from elderly couples with linked arms supporting each other down the potentially hazardous stone steps, to young mothers grabbing each and every direction to herd their boisterous children together.

"Excuse me, pardon me," Merlin and Arthur politely parroted as they made their way through the exiting parishioners. A man stepped out of the way, holding the door open for the two young men.

"It feels good to—" Merlin began before he took one foot into the sanctuary, and immediately his hand covered his nose. "Goodness!" Merlin exclaimed as the thick cloud of incense greeted he and Arthur with full force.

Arthur, who quite enjoyed the bitter-sweet smell off the incense, too was overwhelmed by its peculiar pungency. "I think Father needs to ease up on the incense," Arthur futilely waved his hand in front of his nose.

Merlin stopped, looking at Arthur through squinted eyes. "I don't think I can go on."

"Jeez, stop being such a big baby." Arthur pointed to a corner of the church, just off of the altar. "I see Father."

Father Franco was still in his full vestments, speaking with a couple of parishioners who had hung back to speak with him personally. He immediately saw the two young men who slowly made their way towards him, one covering his nose, and the other taking full strides of determination. "Excuse me, I'll be back in just a moment," he excused himself. "Merlin! I see you twice in one week? What a blessing!"

Arthur gave Merlin a puzzled look.

"I came on Saturday, I thought a little Divine Intervention would calm your nerves," Merlin explained with a sheepish shrug.

Arthur wouldn't say it out loud, but he really appreciated the sentiment. "Thanks for seeing me, Father. I hate to just roll right through, but Merlin and I have an exam today."

Father Soma held up his tan hands. "Say no more, I have what you need right here." Through some maneuvering, the priest was able to go under his vestments and reach into his pants pocket, pulling out a crisply folded sheet of paper, handing it to Arthur. "That's the home and office number of a good friend and faithful parishioner. His name is Gaius Wilson."

Merlin leaned over as Arthur delicately unfolded the paper as if it were a rare treasure he was afraid to damage. "Hey…I know him…Gaius Wilson used to work with my parents," Merlin looked back up at Father with obvious interest.

"He doesn't know much about your case Arthur, and I thought it best you inform him of the gritty details. I took the liberty of scheduling a meeting between the two of you tonight at seven p.m. sharp at Cid's Diner downtown."

"Cid's Diner!" Arthur and Merlin exclaimed in unison.

The priest raised a dark brow, his head slightly tilting at the unexpected response. "Is that alright…?"

Merlin and Arthur couldn't help their laughter, garnering the attention of some parishioners who remained on the kneelers, continuing in prayer. The young men lowered their voices as Arthur explained. "That's where Merlin and I met Gwen; she worked at Cid's Diner…the irony."

Father Soma only smiled. "Now, Gaius Wilson is a very busy man. If you're but a minute late, don't expect to find him there waiting; the man is never idle," the young priest gave apt warning.

"What's he do, exactly?" Arthur asked.

Father Soma cracked a smile. "He's only the South's most influential financial lawyer. I'd have to use my fingers and toes to list off all of the degrees he has, but it doesn't go to his head; he's a behind the scenes man. Most people don't even know he exists, which suits him just fine. But he doesn't have the cold heart of the lawyer; he's willing to help absolutely anyone in need."

"Perfect," Arthur gave his approval.

"He's an older man, in his late sixties with long gray hair, and he has this quirk where he always wears blue and red. Trust me; he'll stick out in any crowd."

"And he agreed to help?" Arthur could never be too safe.

"He gave me his solemn word."

"He's willing even though he knows he will be dealing with a Pendragon?"

Father Soma scratched the back of his head, smiling shyly. "I thought it best not to scare him right out of the gate. It's sort of like…a blind date! Both of you are meeting one another with completely clean slates."

Arthur wasn't sure how much he liked the 'blind date' idea, but right now, he didn't have the luxury of being picky.

"Don't fret over a thing, Arthur. Gaius may appear to be formidable, and trust me, he can be, but he has the softest heart. And if you ask me, I'd say he's a hopeless romantic. Once he hears your plight, he'll put everything he has into aiding you, I promise."

Arthur looked at Merlin, wondering if there was anything else either of them had missed. They both remained silent.

"I'll leave you two gentleman be. And I'm working on that…" Father Soma paused and smiled at a young couple who walked by, "that _other_ thing."

Arthur winked at the priest, realizing that no more could be said on the matter at the time. "Thank you so much Father. I'll see you again sometime this week."

"I look forward to it."

* * *

><p>Morgana reclined until her sore back made contact with her soft pillows, as she idly tapped her ball point pen against the cover of her journal. She stopped her thoughtless movement, positioning the utensil for writing once again.<p>

**_April 1st, 1955_**

_It seems that it is always raining these days, and perhaps that is what has affected my mood. So much has happened since I've last written, and I'm not even sure I have the energy to put it all to paper. I hate to admit it, but I have been a little hesitant in restarting my journal entries, fearing that the sniveling Merlin may find them; I've hidden it especially, and there is no chance he'll get his hands on them now._

Morgana thought of her ingenious hiding place, and it brought a smile to her lipstick red lips. It was the simple things which brought her joy.

_I think Merlin would either laugh or be frightened if he knew I was writing in the same journal he gave me for Christmas all those months ago. Anyhow, exams are on their way, and I find myself terribly distracted by the two lovebirds who become more brazen and reckless with each passing hour. Vivian Remington too is becoming impatient. That girl is very hard to read—_

_At times, I feel as if she has lost hope of ever "winning back" Arthur, but sometimes I see her look at Gwen with such a hatred and at Arthur with such a deep longing, I wonder when she'll finally snap. Perhaps I'll beat her to it. I've been having more dreams, and they're like nothing I've had before. So vivid and detail, they frighten me. I can hear everyone's thoughts, se every facet; they're no longer clouded in fog. I think they are visions, but Vivian—_

"Good afternoon, Morgana," Gwen's cheerful and melodic voice filled the room, and Morgana swore she could _hear_ Gwen's smile. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" Gwen asked, her expression jovial as always.

Morgana wondered why the maid was always grinning, as she quickly snapped her journal shut. She put on her best fake smile, throwing her black hair off of her shoulders. "Gwen, you look so bright today."

Gwen put a hand to her chest, slightly bowing her head at the compliment. "Ah, thanks Morgana." The maid walked farther into the room, carrying her bucket of cleaning agents. "Doing some studying, there?"

Morgana slid the ornate journal a farther little under the sheets, hoping Gwen didn't notice the slight movement. "Yeah, just some reviewing, is all."

Gwen held a feather duster at her side, and set down her bucket as she moved to Morgana's tall dresser-drawer. "How was your weekend, Morgana? It seems that we never get to speak any more, I have no idea what you've been up to!"

"Such a shame, isn't it?" Morgana feigned a frown, before continuing. "My weekend was fine, I suppose. I spent most of it at Vivian's house, shopping and running about. We went to the drive in theatre, which was lots of fun. But what about you; any exciting adventures?" Morgana hoped her last question sounded completely natural.

Gwen stopped, slightly pivoting towards Morgana before thinking a moment, and offering a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. "Nope, not really. Just the same ol', same ol'."

Morgana resisted gritting her teeth. She hated being lied to, especially by someone who was so ghastly at it. The poor thing, she was so innocent and naïve; maybe that's why she was always grinning like a buffoon. No matter the reason, Morgana did not want Gwen in her room, and her mere presence was causing her to itch. "Sorry Gwen, but could you come back and do this later? I'm afraid I have to take a shower now."

"Of course. Go right ahead, that's no problem at all." Gwen gave Morgana a small wave, before quickly turning, humming her entire way out.

* * *

><p>Gwen stood across the street from her home, pausing as she noticed an unfamiliar car in her driveway. She pushed her bag further onto her shoulder, looking both ways before finally crossing the quiet street. "Huh…I guess Daddy has guests over." After a slight struggle, Gwen found her keys buried at the bottom of her cluttered purse, and sighed as she resisted the temptation to just rest on the door, and not bother to exert the mere effort it took to open it. She was so worn out.<p>

"Gwen, it's 'bout time you came home!" Tom opened the front door with a wide swing, surprising his daughter who took a step backward, her hand flying to her chest.

"Are you trying to scare me into an early grave, Daddy? What are you doing?" Gwen tried to peer over her father, as she heard feminine and masculine laughter from inside the home. "And who's in the house?" Gwen was surprised yet again as her father took her hostage in a large bear hug.

"Come in and see for yourself, sugar!"

With caution, Gwen clutched onto her purse, slowly crossing the threshold with anticipation. "Elliot?" Gwen thought her tired mind was playing tricks on her, because she thought she saw her brother sitting at the kitchen table—with Bobbi affectionately holding his hand. Gwen looked at her father with big eyes. "Daddy…what's goin' on?"

Tom smiled widely, motioning towards the table where the young couple sat. "Elliot has a new girlfriend, and he brought her over so we could meet her."

Bobbi stood, extending her small hand to Gwen's. "Hiya, I'm Bobbi-Elise Jones, but I just go by Bobbi. It's nice to finally meet you Gwen, Elliot never mentioned how pretty you were, the little devil," Bobbi teased with a bright smile and sparkling eyes.

Gwen's hand went limp in Bobbi's embrace, as she tried to piece together what exactly was happening. "But—I—" Gwen's head swiveled between her brother and his girlfriend, ready to say something else before Elliot jumped up from the table, wrapping his arm around Bobbi's shoulders.

"I'm sorry for keeping her away from you for so long Gwen. She's really been looking forward to meeting you; it's all she could talk about on the way here."

"Ain't that sweet?" Tom asked his daughter. It was clear that Bobbi had passed all of Tom's tests for approval with flying colors.

"And thank you for having us over on such short notice, Mr. Gibson. It's such a blessin' to finally be in your home," Bobbi said nodding in Tom's direction.

"Call me Tom, sugar."

Gwen couldn't resist rolling her eyes; Tom had never gone this easy on anyone who was romantically involved with his children. Where was his shotgun! Gwen folded her arms over her chest as she cleared her throat. "Elliot, I'm so glad to see you again."

Elliot moved forward to hug his sister, lingering in the embrace, holding on tighter as he whispered into her ear: "We need to talk."

Gwen pulled away as she heard the command.

"Bobbi, why don't you keep Pop company? Gwen's got to show me somethin'; I'll just be a hot minute." Elliot turned away for the kitchen first, going down the hallway to Gwen's open room.

Gwen cautiously trailed behind her brother closing the door quietly behind her. She took a step forward, her hands immediately going to her hips, and her head bowed in thought. "Elliot, can you please explain to me what just happened out there?" Gwen asked, surprised at how mildly the question came out.

"Just keep cool and hear me out—"

"You better start talkin', then. So what? Y'all suffer from amnesia now, is that it?"

"Listen Gwen," Elliot said bringing his voice to a whisper, and moving closer to his sister so his voice wouldn't carry through the home's paper thin walls. "I wanted Pop to meet Bobbi, and as far as he knows y'all two have never met. Bobbi is a perfect stranger to you, and I know you don't like her, but could you just go out there and make nice? You don't have to talk or nothin'—I just want Pop to like her, and you know how he is. If he knew everything you knew…he'd kick me out a second time."

How quickly the tide had changed. Not too long ago Gwen was pleading with every fiber of her being, begging Elliot not to reveal her relationship with Arthur. But now she was the one with the potentially devastating information, and she had to make a choice. Could she go out there, and pretend that nothing had happened? That she liked—approved of this girl? Elliot never became serious with anyone, but he must've seen something in this striking beauty otherwise known as Bobbi, or else he wouldn't have spared the effort.

"Fine," Gwen whispered. "But only 'cause you did it for me first!"

Elliot opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly, clasping his hands together in thanksgiving. "You won't say anything?"

Gwen threw her purse onto the bed, scratching her head in thought. "You didn't say anything 'bout Arthur, so I won't say anything, I guess," Gwen mumbled.

"Thanks…and Gwen? What I said the last time 'bout singing like a canary 'bout your white boy, I didn't mean it. I wouldn't dig your grave like that; you're still my little sister. I'm sorry, okay?"

"I know you wouldn't Elliot. And I hate to admit it, but I…sorta understand where you're coming from with Bobbi, okay? I'll try and get to know her a little better."

Elliot smiled, and Gwen couldn't resist her own. They walked out of the room together, met with the laughter of Tom and Bobbi from the kitchen.

"Did I miss somethin'?" Elliot asked, sitting down once again.

"Nothin', your papa's just being a ham!" Bobbi's sweet laughter dwindled as she diverted her gaze towards Gwen who looked away quickly, walking to the oven.

"What's in here, Daddy?" She asked.

"Bobbi brought us a casserole. Aint that special?"

Gwen looked at Bobbi, offering her a warm smile. "Thanks. That's awfully sweet." She opened the oven to take a quick peek. "What kind is it?"

"Chicken and mushroom. My mama used to fix it all the time, it's your own slice of heaven I promise. I just had her mail me the recipe." Bobbi stood up to stand next to Gwen.

"Oh! Speaking of letters Gwen, Lorenzo—"

Gwen wasn't paying particular attention to her father, for she was too busy talking with Bobbi. "Where does your mama live now, then?"

"Down in Georgia, that's where I'm from, but me and Jay Jay moved up here for work."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah I'm a maid. Aren't you too?"

"Yeah, at the Pendragon house. Where do you work?"

"At the Remington's house."

Gwen's eyes widened, as a hand flew to her chest. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "You gotta put up with Vivian every day; bless your heart."

The two women laughed together, Bobbi recovering first. "Girl, you don't even know the _half _of it. I swear, I'm gettin' into heaven for having to put up with her. But you know what I'm talkin' 'bout," Bobbi moved out of Gwen's way as the oven was opened so the casserole could be taken out. "You got that hellcat Arthur still livin' at yours, right?"

Gwen shrugged, quickly setting the hot dish on the stove. "He aint all bad, honestly. It's just he's got a bad reputation, but he's really kind."

Bobbi looked over her shoulder on to find Tom and Elliot walking towards the living room together. She leaned towards Gwen, whispering conspiratorially. "Girl, between you and me, that Arthur's kinda cute for a white boy. You got the good deal!"

Gwen's head went back with laughter.

"You laugh 'cause it's true, aint it! I don't care what color he is, that boy's a hunk."

Gwen's laughs steadily ceased, as she leaned against the counter, looking at her brother's girlfriend with a smile. Perhaps she wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

><p>Merlin shoved his hands inside of his pockets, looking over at Arthur, then down at his watch: 6:55 p.m. "Arthur, we're gonna have to go in soon."<p>

Arthur's feet remained glued to the sidewalk, as he looked vacantly at Cid's Diner which was bustling as usual. "I'm really nervous."

"Father Franco said Gaius Wilson would help you, so that means he will."

"Things might change once he realizes I'm a Pendragon. Maybe this was a bad idea."

Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur's doubts. He had to deal with Arthur's verbal back and forth the entire car ride to the restaurant, only to be followed by more nervous rambling once the car had parked, because he had wanted to delay the meeting for as long as possible.

"Alright, let's go," Arthur said rubbing his hands together in confidence before stopping in his tracks. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph: please don't let this meeting be a total disaster. Amen."

"Ha! C'mon, Arthur," Merlin said shaking his head with a laugh.

The pair of friends walked into the crowded diner shoulder to shoulder, immediately scanning the numerous guests for any sign of gray hair. Merlin spotted Gaius first, nudging Arthur's side with his elbow, pointing to the farthest corner of the restaurant. "That's him over there; reading the paper. You see him?"

Arthur strained a little to look over the rows of tables to find the older man at the very last one, his head nearly covered by the large newspaper he was reading. "He's a bit old, aint he?"

Merlin's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Okay, let's just move on to 'Plan B'—oh wait, they don't exist," Merlin sarcastically quipped. "And trust me; Gaius is the best of the best."

Arthur nodded, swiftly walking around the busy maitre d', bobbing and weaving through the many tables until he reached the gray-haired man whose eyes remained downcast on his reading. Arthur cleared his throat to gain the man's attention, unsure of how else to start the interaction.

Gaius Wilson slowly raised his head, his wrinkly face set in curiosity as he looked up at the muscular young man before him. His eyes quickly locked onto Merlin, who approached the table moments later. "Merlin? What are you doing here?" Gaius asked happily, standing to shake the young man's hand.

"Gaius, it's good to see you again. I came here with my friend," Merlin said nodding in Arthur's direction.

"Ahh, so you're my mystery client then, Merlin?" Gaius asked with a smile, revealing straight white teeth.

"No Mr. Wilson sir, I'm actually your client," Arthur spoke up, looking around the restaurant as he took his surroundings into account. "Father Franco and I are good friends," he explained.

Gaius did not try to hide the once over he gave the tall blond young man, before extending his hand out for a shake. "Gaius Wilson, it's a pleasure to meet you son. Any friend of Father's is certainly a friend of mine. I've been looking forward to this meeting shrouded in mystery. You must be some young man."

"Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet me. I heard you're top notch, at whatever it is you do. Father Soma only had good things to say about you. Forgive me, I know how strange it must be—"

Gaius raised a silver brow, his head tilting slightly. "You're rambling to avoid telling me who you are, aren't you?" Gaius asked it as a question, though he knew the answer.

Arthur promptly shut his mouth, looking over at a smirking Merlin with a gulp.

"Has a cat got your tongue?" Gaius asked taking a seat, and inviting the two young men to do so as well. "Your name boy, what is it?"

Arthur took a seat across from Gaius, and Merlin sat to his right. "Pardon my nervousness. My name is Arthur; I'm Arthur Pendragon.

"Hmm, so you're the Pendragon boy?" Gaius didn't say the name with reverence like everyone else in the town did. "Perhaps, I should be embarrassed that I didn't recognize the town's royalty? You've grown into a different person since I saw you last."

"Yes sir, I'm the infamous Pendragon," Arthur laughed anxiously.

Gaius looked pensively at Arthur, picking up his coffee, not breaking eye contact with the young man as he drank. "Now my curiosity has been doubly piqued. You are aware of my profession, right?"

Arthur looked at Merlin quickly. "Just that you're a finance lawyer, but that could mean a lot of things. Father wasn't very heavy with the details."

"Well remain in darkness no longer: I'm indeed a lawyer. I _mainly_ deal in the financial realm; sorting disputes between corporations, executing wills, and everything in between. I do it all, really. But…I'm fairly certain Uther has a team of men just like me, so I too am confused about this meeting; Father wasn't very heavy with the details on my end either."

Arthur sighed, as he watched the older man take off his glasses, and fold his wrinkly hands together. "I don't even know where to begin, Mr. Wilson."

The man smiled pleasantly. "Call me Gaius, and the beginning is always a good place to start."

"I'll probably be as clear as mud, and trust me; this is not your usual case."

"Go on and give me your best shot; with forty years of experience I learn how to fill in the details here and there. And, I'm pretty sure I've heard it all, so don't be embarrassed."

Merlin snorted, contributing to the conversation for the first time. "Trust me Gaius; this one is strange, even for you."

Gaius opened his clasped hands, signaling his readiness for the story.

"Where to begin? Uhhm, my mother, Igraine Harris—"

"I knew her very well."

Arthur paused. "Really?"

"Really," Gaius affirmed with a nod.

"Well, then you know she passed away a little after I was born, but she still left me with a written will. And to make this short and sweet: I need to get whatever's in it, every last penny. I haven't cared 'til now—hell, I don't even know what it says! My father and his team have always taken care of my finances, and money has never been an issue."

"I can see that," Gaius said with a grin as he took into account the young man's Italian loafers, Rolex watch, and the impressive ring which he wore on his left index finger.

"But pretty soon my dad's not gonna want anything to do with me, and that cash flow will dry up like the Sahara, I'm one hundred percent sure of it. So, I need to make sure everything that's mine stays mine, and he can't get his hands on it."

Gaius listened, before leaning back in his chair. "Those are some serious words; Arthur Pendragon, going against the almighty Uther? Who would've thought such a day was to be written."

"I don't want it to be like this Gaius, but I can't control him, and I gotta start living my own life. He'll try and manipulate me, forcing me to do what he wants 'cause he'll have all the money. And unless I do something now, I'm fixing to be broke 'till I agree to be his puppet. I love him, but I don't want that."

"And what's the occasion which brings with it such urgency?" Gaius paused to chuckle. "I'm not used to dealing with clients so young, so excuse me if I ask more questions than usual."

Arthur looked around nervously, almost forgetting he was in a crowded restaurant speaking of such a tender matter. He lowered his voice after thoroughly clearing his throat. "'Cause I'm getting outta this place, sir."

Gaius didn't even blink as he too leaned forward to meet Arthur. "You're going to have to give me more to work with than that, son."

Arthur reclined into his seat, nervously looking around as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket, sliding his finger into one of its pockets where he kept a mall photograph of Gwen. Arthur took a moment to look at the small picture, smiling as he looked upon his beloved. He slid the photo over to Gaius, who retrieved his glasses in preparation. "Mr. Wilson, I'm trusting you 'cause Father Franco trusts you too."

"I no longer have any allegiance to Uther Pendragon; this is utterly confidential," he said gingerly picking up the photo. He inspected it quietly. "Hmm." He spoke to Arthur but kept his eyes on the black and white photo. "She's a beautiful young lady; yours, I presume?"

Gaius may have been elderly, but at least Arthur didn't have to spell everything out for him. "We're in love."

Gaius peered over the picture towards Merlin, his facial expression screaming "this-must-be-a-joke", but the young man remained serious. "And I love my dog at home, so what?"

Arthur was receiving the hint that Gaius wanted more details to work with. "She's my soon-to-be fiancée."

"Forgive me, these eyes are worn and old, but she is colored, correct? She's not a dark skinned white?"

"She's a colored, sir."

Gaius sighed, taking his glasses off once again, pushing the photograph back to Arthur. "I have a feeling that my life just became _very_ interesting."

"The short of it is that I want to take care of her. I'm set to inherit the family business, but that's not gonna happen with her by my side."

"How perceptive of you."

"But I still want to make sure we're taken care of; get what's legally mine. And if you decide to help me, and all of the official stuff is sorted, we're out of here."

Gaius sighed, taking off his glasses as he handed the picture back to Arthur. "Where did you find this girl? She's hired help, isn't she?"

Arthur's eyes widened at Gaius's correct guess, but he remained silent.

Gaius smiled, already knowing he was correct. "She's a maid, isn't she?"

The two young men looked at each other, then at Gaius, only able to nod.

"Don't look too surprised, boys. Once you get to this age, you quickly learn it's _always _the maid," Gaius chuckled some more. "And I take it this started in the summer too, didn't it?"

Merlin held his hands up. "Okay Gaius, you're really starting to freak me out over here."

"I may be old and_ look_ slow, but I know how this routine goes, fellas. People like to pretend this stuff doesn't happen, but we who pay attention know that it does. Except…I don't have a waiting list of Dearborn's white men asking me to help them runaway with their colored lovers: you take the prize for being first, congratulations. This is peculiar…oh, peculiar indeed."

"We're not just 'lovers'," Arthur felt the need to clarify. "I'm not some kid blinded by lust in some cheap affair; we're getting married, well, once I propose," Arthur added the last bit quickly. "This is real, Gaius."

Gaius reached into the breast pocket of his jacket, pulling out a small pad and pencil, flipping it to a new page, and scribbling down a few notes. "What's this girl's name?"

Arthur paused, thinking over his decision one last time. "Guinevere Gibson," Arthur leaned in as she spoke. "But it's Gwen for short."

"Guin-e-vere…Gib-son," Gaius whispered to himself as he wrote the down the unordinary name. His gaze snapped back up towards Arthur's. "How old are you, Arthur?"

"Twenty-two, sir."

"So young," Gaius said with a smile. "And Ms. Gibson?"

"Twenty, sir."

"Tell me more about this Gibson girl, then. I'm not a fan of surprises, and I would like to know exactly whom and what I'm dealing with, here."

"Well, for starters, Gwen lives in Southern Dearborn—"

"The colored part of town, of course."

"She's got one brother, Elliot; he's twenty-two too. Her mama's dead; car accident, and she lives with her dad and brother who are both mechanics. She's been workin' at my house since mid June, I think—"

Gaius lifted up his pencil. "Is that when all of this started?"

"Yes sir."

"Where'd she go to school? She got anymore kin in the area?"

"She went to Dearborn high, graduated two years ago; top of her class," Arthur added proudly. "All of her kin are dead sir; her dad and brother are all she's got."

"Who are her friends? Give me a couple of names."

"Well…uhh…" Arthur realized Gwen didn't exactly have many friends. "Alice and Marge who work with her and are her neighbors and this guy named Lorenzo Camello."

"Has she been married in the past, any children?"

"…She only just turned twenty…"

"That's plenty of time to get married, divorce, and be left with a kid. But I'll take that as a 'no'," Gaius correctly surmised, writing down even more notes. "Now, I _have_ to ask this next question."

"Okay…"

"Is she pregnant?"

Arthur's eyes widened as he shook his head. "No sir!"

Gaius' head tilted, revealing his doubt. "Is there _any _chance _whatsoever_ she could be with child in the near future?"

"No sir, none at all," Arthur said waving his hands for emphasis. "We're not running off 'cause we're expecting a baby."

"Alright," Gaius said putting his hands up. "It's just, you gotta ask these types of questions now days. Okay, so if I tie up all of your loose ends and secure your rightful funds, where do you plan on going?"

Arthur bowed his head slightly. "I don't know sir, it's up to Guinevere, I just want her to be happy."

Gaius smiled. "I remember when I was young and in love, and life was just a blank book to be filled."

Arthur's eyes traveled to Gaius' left hand, which was sadly devoid of a wedding band. Arthur wondered what had happened to the love Gaius so fondly remembered. Whatever the sad story was, Arthur knew he didn't want to end up like that; old and alone, letting a love slip through his fingertips. That's why he had to take action now. "Well, I wanna fill my book with her."

"Well, aint you romantic?" Merlin chimed in with a chuckle.

Gaius reclined fully into his chair, looking at Arthur and Merlin silently, a grin slowly appearing on his face. "This is a refreshing case, to say the least!"

"Can't it hurt your career?" Merlin asked the family friend.

"Hurt my career?" Gaius said with a wave of his hand. "No one will trouble me for carrying out the law. And if Uther wants to come after me, he can go right ahead; this old man has nothing to lose. This was going to be just a favor, but I like you young man," Gaius said wagging his finger at Arthur. "You remind me of a younger version of myself; filled with lofty hopes and dreams. Good for you, this girl is mighty lucky."

"Thank you, sir."

"Well, you can count me on your team. I believe everything you said, and I'll help you. What's rightfully yours you should be allowed to spend wherever and on whoever. Igraine wouldn't have wanted it any other way."

Arthur didn't care if he appeared to be giddy as he stuck his hand out for a shake. "Thank you so much Gaius."

"Leave it to me, and you'll be taken care of; I guarantee it."

"What do I do next?"

"I'll do a little bit of digging on this girl and her family; make sure they don't have anything which Uther can use against you. I'll obtain a copy of your mother's will—"

"But won't that cause suspicion, Gaius? When Uther's lawyer team realizes that an outside party is reviewing Igraine's will?"

Gaius smiled. "Oh Merlin, you can't always play by the rules. I'll do some…tweaking. Trust me, I will be the only one who knows about this. I'm quite looking forward to it, in fact."

Merlin and Arthur looked at each other happily.

"I'll call Merlin when we need to meet next, it wouldn't be wise to phone your house or workplace," Gaius said standing, signaling that the meeting was over. He extended his hand towards Arthur for another shake. "What will you tell your fiancée?"

"She not my fiancée yet, and I don't know what I'll tell her."

"Well good luck with that, then." Gaius looked down at his watch, cringing at the time. "I must run now, believe it or not, I have another meeting!" And with that, the old man was off, leaving the two friends standing in awe.

* * *

><p>Morgana's high-heeled shoes made contact with the pavement of her driveway, her sunglasses blocking out the radiant rays which decided to make a long-awaited appearance from behind the rain clouds.<p>

"Don't forget the bags in the back, Vivian," Morgana reminded the blonde who sat in the passenger's seat, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of the gardeners trimming the hedges.

Vivian too stepped out of Morgana's car, joining her friend at the trunk. "Morgana, do you think we shop too much?"

Morgana unlocked the trunk of her car, revealing a several shopping bags of shoes and jewelry. "No, I think we do it in moderation," but even as the words fell from her lips, Morgana knew they didn't ring true. She reached out, picking up three of the paper bags.

Vivian did the same, helping her friend shut the hood of the trunk. "It's such a nice day out."

"Yeah, it is. I'm starving, though. I'm really in the mood for some filet mignon tonight."

"Mhmm, sounds tasty," Vivian agreed as she made her way with Morgana towards the front steps of the house, before the blond abruptly stopped. "Oh, looky there! It's been a while since I've seen blue jays 'round here," Vivian pointed out excitedly.

Morgana looked over by the front of the house just in time to see a couple of blue jays fly past the dining room window. Morgana slowed down a little, as something from the image gave her a mild sense of déjà vu; she wrote it off as merely the beauty of the birds.

The heels of the young women clanked against the stone steps, as the gardeners and maids made haste to step out of their way. Morgana turned to one of the maids who stood idly. "Could you bring two glasses of lemonade to my room? Thanks." The Pendragon didn't await for a reply, as she and Vivian went directly upstairs.

"My feet hurt so badly!" Vivian collapsed onto Morgana's bed the moment she could, kicking the painful shoes from her dangling feet.

"I told you not to buy them," Morgana reminded her friend as she set her shopping bags by her dresser.

"But they were too cute to pass up!" Vivian watched Morgana open one of her dresser drawers, snatching some clothes.

"Well don't complain to me! Hey, I'm gonna go change real quick," Morgana said as she made her way to the bathroom, but leaving the door open.

Vivian put her elbows against the edge of her bed, resting her chin against her clasped hands as she looked out the window at the gang of gardeners outside. "You know Morgana, some people say coloreds don't tan…but I don't think that's true."

"What are you talking about, Vivian?"

"I mean, just look at those gardeners; why else would they wear white, except so they can't get any darker? Poor things. You know, I never understood why they had to wear white when they work with dirt for a living, but now it all makes sense."

Morgana crept from the bathroom, still in the same clothes. "What…did…you…say?" She asked slowly, moving closer to Vivian with each strung out word.

Vivian's eyes narrowed in confusion, as she looked back out the window at the band of dark skinned men who diligently trimmed the hedges around the fountain. "I said I never understood why the gardeners had to wear white, but they work with dirt. It's 'cause they don't wanna get darker. Aint it..Morgana?"

Morgana's hand moved behind her, feeling for the wall which she knew was there, but her back ran up against it before she could stop herself. Her light eyes were wide with shock, her mouth opened wide and covered with one hand, as she shook her head side to side. "No…no, it c-c-c-cant—people can't—I can't—"

Vivian sprung up from the bed, alarmed by Morgana's strange reaction. "Darling, what's wrong? You're scaring me!"

Morgana walked past Vivian in a daze, moving directly to the window which was next to her bed. The team of gardeners were around the fountain clipping its surrounding hedges. "It's just like my…dream…" she whispered, clutching onto the pearl necklace she wore.

Vivian moved behind Morgana, as she heard her frightened words. "What? Your dream?"

"Aahh!" Morgana yelped, jumping backwards with a frightened scream, her back colliding with Vivian who was pushed backward by the impact. "The birds! Oh my God, did you see them blue jays fly past the window!"

"What birds?" Vivian asked, becoming more frightened, as she looked towards the window, catching the birds fly off into the distance. "You're not making any damned sense!"

"It's happening Vivian! I'm seeing it! What I thought in my dream, about the gardeners—you just said. Damn it, you nearly said it word for word!" Morgana turned frantically towards the window, pointing outside. "I saw that exact same image! The same number or men, in the same positions, and I _thought_ what you _said _just now! There is no way that the birds and the white jumpsuits are both accidents!"

Vivian took a step away from Morgana.

"For the love of God…it's finally happening."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Dun, dun, dun!


	34. Chapter 34

_So, finally MLMS has a proper cover made by the lovely __**2Sam11**__ on tumblr, and if you want a better picture, there is a link on my profile page; it's absolutely **gorgeous**! __Many thanks to **2Sam11**._

_I hope you all enjoy this chapter: I took some risks in seqencing of events, and I hope it flows well enough still! __For those of you (especially non-Americans) who may not know: _

** Mammy**_**: **_Offensive._ (formerly in the southern US) A black nursemaid or nanny in charge of white children._

_Hope you like, and there aren't too many mistakes: YoureAnIllusion_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 34: And They Said Talk Was Cheap<strong>

Morgana's heels clanked against the tile of the confessional, the noise ceasing as she sat on the wooden bench which was next to the screen separating her from Father Franco Soma. She made the sign of the cross, and the priest joined her, silently awaiting the preliminary. Morgana took a deep breath, unsure of where to begin. She closed her eyes in preparation, although the confessional was dimly lit. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned," she began shakily.

Father Franco addressed the silence, goading the unknown confessor to continue the ritual. "How long has it been since your last confession, my child?"

"My last confession was…" Morgana didn't actually know, so she picked the first number which came to her mind, "six months ago, I think, Father." Her cold and slender fingers tapped nervously against her thigh which bounced up and down. She became still once she realized the irritating noise her shoes against the tile made. "Sorry Father, it's been a while since I've done this."

"Take your time. Start with your most grievous sins first, to 'get them over with', so to speak."

Morgana's shoulders suddenly heaved, and she buried her face in her hands in shame, and the hot tears flowed from her eyes down her cheek and began to sob. Her bitter cries echoed about the small confessional, and a few sniffles ensued before she took enough courage to speak again. "Father, what I have done is too terrible for absolution. I am ugly in the sight of the Lord, and my sin has blackened my soul."

Though the screen hid her identity and facial expressions, and her voice rendered unfamiliar to his ears, the priest could tell that the young woman was truly contrite for whatever it was she had done. He rubbed his hands together, trying to think of comforting words so she could move on with her confession. "I assure you, the Lord forgives all who come to Him with a humble heart." The priest smiled as he heard the last of the woman's sobs.

Morgana took a few breaths, using her hand to fan her hot face, but she still couldn't hold back the sniffles. "I hope you can set aside some time Father' this may take a while. My list rivals the devil's and I fear I'm on the first bus to hell."

* * *

><p>Vivian fished in her purse, finding her half full carton of cigarettes. "Thank God!" She nearly screamed, fearing that she had left them at home, in their secret hiding place where her parents couldn't find them. She immediately felt guilty as she looked at the church from the parking lot she sat in. "Oops, sorry God," she said nodding in the church's direction, the cigarette already between her lips. She lit it quickly, checking her watch impatiently as she took her first fulfilling drag. "Dang Morgana…how much do you have to tell the guy?" Vivian complained to herself as she looked at the time. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, enjoying the smoke in the privacy of her car.<p>

"Wake up!" Morgana cried, banging quickly on the driver's door and waking Vivian with a start. She promptly opened the passenger's door on the other side, and jumped alongside her friend. Morgana immediately began to wave her hand in front of her nose, trying to scatter the air thick with smoke which caused her to cough ever so delicately. "For Christ's sake, put that damn thing out! Unlike you, I appreciate these lungs!"

Vivian inhaled sharply. "Watch your cussin' mouth, we're at a church," Vivian whispered the last part. Vivian decided not to waste a perfectly good cigarette, so she decided to roll down her window, hoping the compromise would suit Morgana. No further objections were raised, so she assumed it did. Vivian leaned over to turn the engine with a smile. "Were you crying?"

Morgana smiled widely, nodding her head excitedly. "I reckon I put on a good show back there. That dumb priest, he was eating out of the palm of my sinning hand."

Vivian smiled even wider than Morgana, her lips tight against her teeth. "You ought to go into acting, girl; you're an undiscovered talent."

"Oh, soon there will be plenty of time for that."

"So you reckon you convinced him good enough?"

Morgana snorted, waving her hand dismissively as the car began to move away from the church. "One-hundred percent sure, Viv. He had no idea who I was, I'm sure of it—"

"Good."

"He hasn't spoken to me since I was a child, and he can't see who's sitting on the other side through the screen. As far as he knows, I'm one of his little parishioners. This entire 'confession' nonsense is just_ too _convenient!"

"And to think…we're here because of a jacket."

"Yup; a jacket," Morgana confirmed with a nod. Her mind drifted to the tumultuous events which had occurred only two days ago, consisting of: a jacket, a business card, and a pesky maid. Her mind replayed the events for the hundredth time, the gentle vibrations of the car stimulating her memory even further.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Two Days Earlier<strong>_

Morgana had been walking around in a daze for a day. Vivian thought she was a loon, but Morgana knew the truth: she had been given a gift only given to a select few throughout the history of the world. She now joined their ranks.

A clairvoyant—psychic—oracle…prophet; Morgana still wasn't sure what to call her gift, but she knew she had it. She knew that the 'dream' she had several nights ago was much too powerful to be a meaningless expression of her subconscious. In the dream, as she awaited the news of Arthur and Gwen's children, she found herself looking out the window and catching two blue jays fly by; a rare occurrence for their area. After that, she had looked outside by the fountain where the landscapers worked in their white uniforms, and she wondered why they were required to wear the impractical color.

So, when Vivian had noted the blue jays flying across the dining room table yesterday, Morgana had a mild sense of déjà vu rush over her, but brushed it off as a strange phenomenon which every one experienced once in a while. Yet, when she was changing in the bathroom and listening to Vivian think out loud, Morgana's vision came back to her; smacking her across her doubting face.

"_Some people say coloreds don't tan…but I don't think that's true. I mean, just look at those gardeners; why else would they wear white….Poor things…working with dirt for a living."_

Vivian's ignorant words not only rang ludicrous…but familiar. The moment they had left the delusional girl's lips, Morgana knew where she had heard nearly identical words: _her_ own thoughts in _her _dream. Now, such an occurrence was too close to be counted as a coincidence, and the event had kept Morgana on edge for the entire day.

"Morgana, I nearly forgot you lived here. I swore, you moved in with Vivian," Arthur quipped, drawing Morgana out of her contemplation as he walked through the front door with Merlin in tow.

"Why, I swore you had moved out as well. You never seem to be 'round here much anymore. Now you're missing nights?" Morgana laughed lightly. "But don'tcworry, I won't say anything to Uncle Uther—poor Uncle, he actually believes you've been studying with Merlin!"

Arthur's eyes widened at his cousin's words, but she promptly patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry Arthur; I've always kept your secrets, haven't I?" Morgana then swatted the same area. "Lighten up Arthur, it was only a joke! Cheer up; supper's ready now."

Arthur and Merlin shared a content glance, walking past Morgana, who soon followed.

"Is Vivian here?" Arthur asked nearly impatiently.

"Yeah, she's just washing up. She—" Morgana literally stopped in her tracks as her nostrils received a whiff of Arthur's jacket. She recovered quickly, and followed Arthur and Merlin to the dining room, trying not to make it totally obvious that she was sniffing the strange scent which wafted from Arthur jacket. It was pungent yet sweet, smoky and slightly overbearing as it tickled her nostrils…it was incense. Morgana took another small and discreet sniff— that was incense alright.

She sat down across from Merlin and Arthur at the dining table, surprised to find Vivian already seated and happily waiting as she conversed with Uther. Morgana heard her Uncle's words, but they blended into incoherency as the wheels of her mind began to spin at a furious pace. Hazily, Morgana sat, keeping her eyes on the far wall.

The other four who sat at the tables bowed their heads to pray over the meal, and Morgana automatically complied. But the moment she lowered her head, it slowly raised again as her realization was made complete. There was only one logical place where Arthur could pick up such a thick odor of incense: his church. And Morgana wouldn't have to go through the county's phonebook to find which one, either. They were in Baptist country, and the only place within one hundred miles which even came_ close_ to using incense were the Catholics…but why would—Morgana couldn't help but grin as her mind began to speculate, neither of the guesses too far off from the truth. Oh, she had trapped Arthur now.

Morgana looked around the table impatiently, looking at the top of everyone else's heads which were lowered as Uther continued. _What is Uncle even going on about for so long? Mercy, can't we just eat? _

Morgana was just about to tune in when she saw Gwen walking out of the kitchen, stopping short as she looked at Morgana's expression. Morgana didn't mean to, but her eyes narrowed as she gazed upon the maid who had seemed to put extra care into her appearance that day. Her hair rested neatly to the side, lying on her shoulder blade in a single braid, and…was that lipstick Morgana saw?

"Amen," everyone around the table said together.

Morgana closed and shut her eyes quickly, to make it appear as if they had been closed all along, and dinner finally began. But Gwen eyed the lady of the house nervously throughout the entire meal.

* * *

><p>"Here Arthur, I'll take your coat for you," Morgana eagerly offered the moment her cousin rose from his seat, stretching his arms behind his back and rubbing his stomach which was full from the satisfying meal.<p>

"Oh, thanks. You can just put it on the coat rack. But make sure you put it at the front, would you? You're great."

Morgana was barely able to keep her eyes from rolling; Gwen was his little maid, not her. She quickly made her way out of the dining room, leaving all of the other guests behind. The moment she reached the empty foyer where the coat rack stood, Morgana brought Arthur's jacket to her nose, nearly covering her face as she took in its scent yet again. "Oh Arthur," Morgana whispered happily, coming up for air.

"Running back to your religion now, are you?" Morgana asked, thoroughly amused. She stuffed her hand into the right side pocket, her fingers wrapping around a thick and rectangular business card. She grinned maniacally as she turned it over and read out loud: "Father Franco Soma, pastor." She skimmed over his phone number, and then flipped the card over again to see a note written by the priest in neat cursive. "Arthur: call me for anything."

Morgana's head snapped in the direction of laughter which came from the dining room, reminding her to hurry. She reached into the left pocket, and she hit the jack pot yet again. This time she felt a folded piece of paper, and she wasted no time in whipping it out. It too smelled of the pungent incense, but retained the stench to a greater extent. She could barely see what the paper contained if she strained her eyes to the limit…numbers…yes: two telephone numbers and a name which she couldn't make out without unfolding the paper.

"What are you doin'?" Stella asked with a loud clear of her throat, intruding upon Morgana's investigation. She was walking back to the kitchen, only to find Morgana rummaging through Arthur's jacket like a hound and _smelling_ it like one too. "I reckon that aint none of your business," Stella informed Morgana sternly, pointing at the piece of paper which Stella had watched Morgana yank from the jacket only moments before. "You oughta put that coat down girl, 'fore Arthur sees you."

Morgana froze, but not so much out of fear as contempt. Stella had used her famous condescending tone; frightening the most willful into compliance, but this time it only irritated Morgana. She did not appreciate to be spoken down to; addressed like a child by a woman who was her subordinate. Stella used on her, talking her down as if she was a child. Morgana had had enough of the uppity coloreds who peppered _her _estate. Who did these people think they were, and where were they suddenly obtaining all of this foolish courage?

Stella always needed to be taken down a peg or two, and Uther had attempted to do that on several prior occasions, but Arthur's peculiar fondness for the woman _always_ prevailed—or intervened. Morgana Pendragon literally lived in a mad house: where one man was off giving his body to a maid, and the other one catering to their new insolent ways…it was a wonder she hadn't learned to dislike them earlier. Morgana now knew her Uncle's common mantra, which she had previously castoff as bigotry, was indeed correct: everyone had a place. And Stella's definitely was not questioning_ her_; the _lady_ of the house.

"Excuse me?" Morgana asked, putting the paper back into the pocket, and throwing the jacket over the holder without a care. She took a step to the formidable woman who stood her ground, eyeing Morgana as if she was an alien species. "Pardon, but I think you've forgotten who you're speaking to." Morgana's words were not overtly hostile, but were delivered with her consistently polite low-country twang, which could have a stinging bite when necessary without sounding too combative.

Stella's subconsciously took a step backward, but the proud maid refused to adjust her tone. "I don't think Arthur would like you goin' through his stuff. I watched you—you were goin' through his things like a hound dog, and don't you deny it Morgana, 'cause I done watched the entire thing with my own good eyes."

Morgana's eyes widened at the maid's blatant disrespect of her authority. "Let's clear some things up right now Stella, and I'll speak extra slowly so you can understand. One," Morgana held up her index finger as a visual, in case the maid was denser than she thought. "Don't you _dare _call me out of name ever again or it'll be your last: it's '_Miss_ Morgana' to you. Two," Morgana held up another finger. "Arthur may put up with your orders, but I'm not fixing to tolerate them any longer. You aint my mama, and you sure as hell don't run anything 'round here: I give the orders to you, not the other way around. And the next time you get it confused you'll be out of here so fast, and collecting your welfare and food stamps, so help me _God_!" Morgana hadn't planned her passionate response in face of Stella's disrespect, but the words tasted as sweet as sugar as they rolled off of her red lips like water, but landing like acid. It felt so rewarding to finally say what had been on her heavy heart for the longest time, and she could feel her chest moving at the unexpected emotion which just overflowed once she had started.

Stella winced as if she had been smacked by the young woman who she had helped raise as her own. Had she _really_ been her child, however, Stella would've smacked her against her fresh mouth, and then she'd see who _really_ ran things. Stella was fumbling for a response, her mind still wrapping around Morgana's new rules.

"Morgana!" Arthur's voice took on a deep and demanding quality which his cousin had never heard before, and immediately the two warring women took their fiery gazes off of one another, and snapped at Arthur who stood a few feet away from them, with a terrified Gwen by his side. Arthur walked forward with a broad and strong stride, leaving Gwen where she stood by the entry way of the foyer. "What the hell has gotten into you, Morgana?" Arthur growled.

"Ask_ her_!" Morgana swung her index finger angrily in Stella's direction, the lid finally popping off of whatever self control Morgana had left. "Questioning _me_, telling _me_ what to do! The nerve of her! I don't know who you think you are Stella—"

"Morgana!" Arthur moved swiftly in between the two women, fearing that if the argument protracted for a moment longer the staff would be wiping blood off of the imported Italian tile. "Would you quit it!" Arthur slightly pushed against Morgana's shoulders, when it appeared that she wanted to move past him and to Stella. "Calm down, and take a deep breath," Arthur hoped a softer tone would break some of the intensity. "Stella's like kin," Arthur reminded Morgana in a whisper.

Morgana's light eyes narrowed at Arthur; of course he came to her rescue. "No she's not, she's _nothing _like family."

Arthur quickly turned to Stella, hoping his surrogate mother hadn't heard the ugly words, but it was too late. Stella gritted her teeth together, turning on her heels as she proudly walked out of the room, but Arthur and Gwen saw her wiping away at her cheeks as she fled.

Morgana stood there quietly vibrating in anger, watching Gwen's hand fly to her agape mouth in complete astonishment. Morgana nearly turned on Gwen to scream: "Oh, stop looking so surprised, you filthy whore!" but Merlin and Vivian came next to Arthur and Gwen out of breath to see what the commotion was all about.

"By golly, what's goin' on out here? We could hear the yellin' from a mile away!" Vivian shrieked, her eyes darting about to try and piece the puzzle together.

Uther too joined the 'party', his small eyes darting about the foyer. "Morgana, was that you doing all that hollering?" he asked in amazement. He had been speaking with Merlin and Vivian in the sitting room after dinner, and the three had heard most of the argument.

Morgana looked around at the various degrees of amazement displayed on each one of their faces. "It was time I put that maid in her place! I'm sick and tired of her talking to me like I'm her nigger child!" Morgana quickly realized what it was exactly she had said, and she turned to Gwen. "I'm sorry Gwen, I didn't mean it to come out like that." Morgana's gaze locked with Merlin's which was of sheer disgust. "It's just; Uncle," Morgana turned to Uther breathless, "I'm not fixin' to let Stella, a maid, talk to me like she did. She has to realize her place, like you always say."

"Oh, would you give it a fucking rest already!" Arthur finally exclaimed his interjection, throwing his hands up in anger. All eyes turned to him, as he stepped closer to Morgana. "What are you even rambling 'bout: 'Stella needs to know her place'? The only person who has a problem with her is you, and you had no reason to disrespect her like that. Jeez Morgana, what the hell is wrong with you?"

That was it. Morgana had had enough; enough of Arthur and his little colored toy, of Merlin and his snooping, of Uther and his lack of initiative, and mostly of the staff which walked around the estate, acting as if they were her equal. "What's wrong with_ me_?" Morgana yelled in disbelief, her question loud enough to reach the heavens. She feared her next words would be delivered hoarsely, as she could feel the intensity of her last question grate her vocal cords. "Arthur, you're full of shit, you know that!"

"Whoa, cool it, now!" Uther tried to play referee, but it was too late; tempers had already flared too much to be tamed.

"I'm full of shit?" Arthur roared, his hand pointing to his chest. "You're the racist here with the sudden attitude problem."

"So, I'm a racist now?" Morgana asked with an ironic laugh which was devoid of joy. "And why is that? 'Cause I finally spoke to her like the colored mammy she is! Arthur, you're the only one who gives two shits 'bout her! You go 'round here like she's your mama, but she aint! She's just another welfare-hogging broad, who cleans our toilets and answers 'yes ma'am' and 'no sir'. I'm sorry that I don't like being talked down to by someone who is obviously less than me!"

Audible gasps emanated from each bystander, and several brave and curious maids poked their heads out from nearby rooms and hallways, trying to obtain a peek of the argument which they had been eavesdropping on since the beginning.

Arthur's eyes transformed from angry to hurt, and confused as he watched Morgana who had become so worked up, that her hands were shaking at the same rate the vein in her neck was throbbing, and her face was beet red. "A mammy?" Arthur repeated Morgana's insult upon Stella. "That's what you think of her? You just proved you're_ not_ better than her," he informed his cousin with an even tone.

"Oh, please Arthur," Morgana snorted. "Save your condescending tone for someone who gives a damn."

"Young lady, if I hear one more swear word!" Uther warned, still between the threshold of the foyer next to Merlin and Vivian, who were behind Gwen; each watching the tense exchange between the two cousins with baited breath.

"I'm sorry that 'cause I'm not a bigoted pig like you, I appear to be condescending."

Morgana threw up her hands, unable to believe that it had _really_ come down to this. "I'm the bigoted pig?" She screeched. "I'm the pig here? This is coming from the guy who has slept around with so many girls; you'd need your fingers and toes to count each one!" Morgana's ears caught onto some snickering from the distance, and the blanching of Gwen's face didn't go unnoticed. "_You're_ the pig runs around town like a badass 'cause you can get drunk and get another floozy all in one night! Congratulations! And if you really want to talk about being a pig, at least I've never reduced myself to sleeping with colored whores like you have!" Morgana screamed the last bit with every fiber of her being, and then it was as if everything else happened in slow motion.

Uther rushed forward, grabbing his niece by the shoulders, violently shaking her into momentary silence. "Enough, Morgana! Your behavior is embarrassing yourself, and this family!"

"My behavior! Can't you see that I'm the only one here acting with any sense around this—" Morgana's tirade was cut off as her uncle's large hand covered her mouth, muffling her remaining words. In his strength, Uther was able to drag Morgana partially down the foyer before she swatted his hand away from her face like a child. "_You _disgust _me_ Arthur! You're friends were right, you are a nigger lover! Go lay down with your—"

Uther's slap against Morgana's cheek could be heard all down the hallway, and Morgana immediately silenced after a small whimper. "Shut your mouth this very instant! One more word and—" The rest of Uther's threat was unheard, and the only sound which remained was the increased whispers of the staff who had hidden themselves from plain view in every place imaginable.

Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, and Vivian, remained in the foyer each too shocked to move. Gwen looked up at Arthur, tears pooling in her brown eyes and Arthur's blue gaze held onto hers, and the two silently communicated. Vivian and Merlin watched the exchange, the two locking steely gazes with one another.

"Sweet baby Jesus, I do declare: the girl's done lost all her marbles!" One maid whispered just loud enough where Arthur could hear it.

He moved to the center of the foyer, projecting his voice the best he could. "All of y'all get back to work now, or go home!"

Though no one came into full view, scampering feet could be heard all about, but were cut by Gwen's shaky voice. "I guess that includes me, then huh?" Gwen tried to walk past Arthur, but he quickly reached out, grabbing her forearm.

"Guinevere, wait."

Gwen shook Arthur's hand off of her. "Not right now Arthur," she whispered. Her voice wasn't hostile, but some other underlying emotion which Arthur couldn't clearly identify. Gwen quickly walked out of the foyer, and Arthur didn't follow her this time.

"What…the…hell…" Merlin whispered to himself, running a hand through his black hair.

"I second that…" Vivian said with wide eyes. She had remained glued in her spot since she had rushed out to watch the tumult unfold

Arthur turned to them, speechless.

"I think," Vivian moved over to the coat rack, picking up her light jacket, "I should get goin'," she looked at her watch though she really didn't note the time. "Mercy, it's getting' late!"

"I think it's best you go, Vivian. Well, at least you got a dinner and a show," Arthur said half heartedly.

Vivian merely nodded, scooting out as quickly as her tiny feet could shuffle.

* * *

><p><strong>Present Day<strong>

Vivian tapped her fingers nervously against the wheel, as she looked over at Morgana in the passenger's seat. They had been driving for five minutes already from the church, on the way to the Pendragon Estate, and Vivian still didn't have the details on what Morgana said within the confessional to the priest. "For the love of Pete, Morgana! Would you quit day dreamin', and just spill already! What did y'all say?"

Morgana shook her head. "Sorry, I was just thinking 'bout what happened the other day."

Vivian snorted. "Like you or I could forget!"

Morgana closed her eyes, as her memory presented Vivian with an almost verbatim retelling of the pseudo-confession:

_Morgana had sniffled all of her fake tears away, and made sure that she blew her nose into the handkerchief extra loudly. _

"_You can continue when you're ready," Father Soma encouraged gently. He always let the person go at their own pace, speaking when they were able._

_Morgana lowered her voice to a whisper, but stayed a safe distance away from the screen of the confessional; she could never be _too_ cautious. "Father, I have committed two terrible sins. I have had an affair with a…" she paused for more sniffling, "a colored man."_

"_Ah my child, fornication is—"_

"_No Father, we weren't fornicating…just seeing each other. But I cut it off immediately Father, I know the Lord sees the mixing of races as blasphemy, and I am sorry for having offended Him. My heart is truly contrite, and I will never look at another colored man for as long as I live."Morgana wished she had more to say, but her mind drew blanks. Perhaps it was best that she didn't; most people said as little as they could during a confession. The information would suffice; she just needed Father to bite the hook she was lowering._

_The young priest squirmed on his side of the confessional, and Morgana could tell he was fiddling with his hair. "My child: you have not lain with this man?"_

"_No Father, but just being with him I know is a grave sin, and I ask for your absolution."_

"_But there is no need to grant absolution. If you have not fornicated with the man—what is it that you think you're guilty of?"_

"_F-f-father," Morgana intentionally stuttered, "I do not think this act has a name. We kissed, and touched and—I know even that was wrong to do with a colored man."_

"_My child, from my understanding, you have yet to sin."_

"_W-w-what? But isn't it wrong to take up with coloreds?"_

"_The Church says nothing on mixing of the races. From what you have told me, no immorality has been committed. You sin not by merely _being _with this man. You can have a pure love with a colored; they are human."_

Bingo. _"Father…what do I do? I'm so confused. If I have done no wrong…I can stay with him…if I changed my mind?"_

"_Is the man kind to you?"_

"_Yes, Father he has a very gentle soul."_

"_Does he treat you and the Lord with respect?"_

"_Yes Father, I reckon he's a righteous man."_

"_Then I see no harm. Don't be so scrupulous; you have committed no evil."_

"_Would you encourage I go back to him?"_

"_I do not know the fellow, and that is your decision in the end. But I would advise against making that judgment solely on his color. Coloreds are not subhuman; God made no mistakes in creation. Has that helped? Be free, but remain virtuous. Such love is rare, no matter who it is with. Embrace this man if he is really as upright as you have said."_

_Morgana wiped her eyes, making the movement dramatic enough so the priest would be able to see her silhouette. "My soul is no longer heavy Father, thank you."_

"_You're welcome." Father Franco remained seated, waiting for the next penitent to take Morgana's place as she slowly stood and left._

"Vivian," Morgana said with a sigh as she finished recounting her discussion with Arthur's beloved priest, "I know Arthur went to him. Even if I didn't find his card in Arthur's pocket, the smell of incense on Arthur's jacket was a sure sign. The stench still hung in the air today, I wanted to gag."

"So…what do you reckon?"

"What do I reckon, what?"

"How is the priest involved in all of this mess?"

Morgana bit at her nails which needed a new manicure. "I don't know yet, but he's involved somehow, I just know it. And the way he talked 'bout coloreds…I wouldn't be surprised if he knew 'bout Gwen. I mean if you think about it…Arthur needs someone he can trust to talk to 'bout this; he's only got Merlin. It's not a coincidence that Arthur started to see Father Franco again once Gwen came into the picture. I'm starting to think that there is no such thing as a 'coincidence', after all."

"This thing just gets a new layer every single day, I swear it," Vivian said with the shake of her head. "It's like…one of them romance novels written up by someone with too much time, and who likes thick helpings of drama."

"Too bad this is real," Morgana said quietly.

Vivian turned to pull into the estate, stopping the car as the gate keeper ensured her entrance. "Is your house still a battle ground?" Vivian asked nervously. "Maybe I shouldn't come inside and stir the pot."

"No, please come in. The entire place is like a graveyard. Everyone is tense; Arthur isn't speaking to me, Uncle only mutters, and the staff is avoiding me like the bubonic plague. It's like I'm an unwelcome guest at my own home."

"Well…it _is_ sorta your fault," Vivian thought out loud, and she wasn't sure she had actually said it until she felt the cold front from Morgana's icy glare. Vivian held up her hands openly in defense. "C'mon, it's true! You flew off the handle like a deranged nut that night! Tarnation, I wouldn't wanna be 'round you neither."

"Wow, tell me how you_ really _feel," Morgana said sarcastically.

Vivian clasped her hand over her mouth. "I'll shut up, now."

Morgana merely scoffed as she stepped out of the car. "Eating together is the worst. It is terribly awkward, I don't know when things are gonna thaw out. Every time Arthur sees me, I can tell he wants to give me a piece of his mind, but just when it looks like he's 'bout to say something, he turns away."

Vivian flipped her hair as she leaned over to lock her door. "Why don't you just apologize, and set everything back to normal?"

Morgana took the first step, vigorously shaking her head. "No, Vivian. I can't apologize for 'cause it had to be said, and that wouldn't change how everyone feels. Arthur feels as if I've insulted his surrogate mother and his little maid, and Uncle feels like I've disrespected the family by calling Arthur a nigger lover."

"Well…you did."

"Whose side are you on, anyhow?" Morgana snapped angrily.

"Yours, it's just—you coulda handled this a teensy weensy bit better," Vivian said, holding her index finger an inch away from her thumb to qualify just how much a 'teensy weensy' was.

"Well, it's done now." Morgana stopped before the front door, wanting to finish what she had to say to Vivian before she stepped into the cold cavern which was now her home. "Uncle hasn't said a word to me. It's been two days, and I still haven't gotten a lecture."

"No kidding?" Vivian asked, legitimately astonished. "Boy, he's gonna chew you out good."

Morgana shrugged, resting her hands on her hips. "Also, I haven't seen Arthur near Gwen once these past two days. I think it's 'cause everyone's on edge, and people are hypersensitive now—being_ real_ careful. I'm not sure if they're upset with one another. It's so exhausting to keep up with them, and we're all in the same house!" Morgana lamented as she finally swung open the front door.

* * *

><p>Arthur really did not want to be in his own home; ever since Morgana's little outburst in the foyer, the entire staff had been weary of approaching any Pendragon, and as a result, Gwen had to act timid too. He knew she was upset by Morgana's words, especially when she considered his cousin to be such a good friend. Arthur hoped Gwen was just playing the part of the maid tiptoeing on eggshells, and that she didn't really take any of Morgana's ridiculous claims to heart; they were <em>so <em>past that in their relationship. But still, the separation was driving him insane. Sure, with classes and work Arthur hadn't been home too much, but when he was it was absolute torture. Gwen was so close, yet they had to be even more careful with the newly vigilant staff.

Arthur was ready to take drastic action, and he sprung from his desk before he could talk himself out of it. "Excuse me, sorry," Arthur said quickly as several staff members leaped out of his way, whispering at his back as he flew by in the opposite direction. As Arthur neared the kitchen, he was happy to see that at least that part of the home remained vivacious, retaining a semblance of normalcy despite the surrounding 'hostile territory'.

But the moment he walked in, the five women who were inside promptly snapped their mouths shut, and turned to Arthur with wide and expectant eyes. Arthur was saddened that they looked so fearful of him, it wasn't he who had blown up; it was Morgana.

"Ladies, good afternoon," Arthur said with a polite nod of his head, his eyes immediately moving to Guinevere, who was rolling a pie crust and avoiding his gaze. She looked so beautiful today, and Arthur had to remind himself why he was in the kitchen with four pairs of dark eyes waiting for him to speak. "How's dinner coming along ladies?"

"Dandy," they all said together. "We're nearly through."

"Good, 'cause I want everyone out of the kitchen: now."

The women slowly set down the spoons, pots, and plates they were holding, looking at each other in confusion.

Arthur kept his eyes on Gwen who finally returned the favor, making it clear that while he was addressing the room, he had a special message for her. "Now, y'all are gonna have to scoot on outta here for a spell. You're gonna close the doors, and if anyone—I don't care who—even so much as opens the door a crack, they're fired. If I find out any of y'all have been eavesdropping, you're fired and I'll make sure you never work in this town again. But you're a good bunch, so I hope it won't come to that."

Everyone but Gwen nodded eagerly the moment Arthur silenced, no one brave enough to second guess his commanding tone. A few more uneasy looks were exchanged.

"Y'all got ten seconds."

Simultaneously, the maids lifted up their aprons and hems, trying not to push each other as all four of them tried to squeeze out of the double doors at once.

"Stella, come on girl," Alice goaded her superior, pulling on the woman's slender arm.

Stella looked back at Arthur as she was being dragged away, mentally asking him what he was doing, but the only person he was focused on was Gwen.

"He said to shut the doors, y'all!" Marge hollered, as Alice closed the second door with haste.

"What has been goin' on in this house lately?" Stella asked out of breath. "Is there somethin' wrong with the water up in here, 'cause it seems to be spreading!"

"Oh no!" One of the new maids who too was banished exclaimed, looking at the door in fright. "We left poor ol' Gwen in there!"

"Quit bein' simple," Alice rolled her eyes. "Girl, wasn't it plain as day that he wanted to talk to Gwen?"

The new member looked at the other two women who seemed to agree with Alice's observation. "Why...why would he wanna do that?"

Marge, Alice and Stella all looked at each other; the three maids who knew Arthur and Gwen the best. It was obvious that the two were friends. Alice would catch Arthur holding doors open for Gwen, and carrying heavy loads for her without being asked. From time to time, Marge would spot a smile or glimmer in Arthur's eye when he saw Gwen or even if only her name was mentioned. And Stella knew the entire truth, though she was sure her two friends knew as well.

It was just something they didn't mention. But deep down, and neither Marge nor Alice would admit it, but merely seeing Arthur and Gwen together in any capacity warmed their hearts to the core. The tenderness he reserved only for her, and the way she lit up like a Christmas tree around him…they knew that the two were meant to be.

"Lord have mercy…" Marge muttered, giving her coworkers an urgent look. "Here comes the Queen Bee and her lil' gal pal," Marge looked out of the dining room window, to see Morgana and Vivian walking up the steps towards the house.

The other three women groaned, as they too looked out the window.

"Alright y'all, just act natural! Pretend like you're workin' on something!" Stella quickly ordered.

Marge and Alice darted to the table where some plates and utensils rested, idly shifting them as they kept a look out for Morgana to appear. Stella moved to the corner of the room where a large oak cabinet served as a fine china display, and she quickly grabbed two silver spoons, and pretended to clean it with her apron.

The new maid watched the women hurry to different sections of the room, busying themselves with whatever they could find, in astonishment. She had just started her new job that week, and there were so many unspoken rules and customs that she had no idea what to do in most instances, and it didn't help that the staff seemed to effortlessly and telepathically communicate with one another. "Y'all, what's goin' on? Could someone tell me what in God's good name—"

"Hush it girl, just make it look like you're doin' somethin'," Stella lightly tossed the spoon in the girl's direction, and she caught it. "Make it look like you're shining."

The maids only had to wait about five more seconds until they heard the front door open and close, and Morgana's voice from the hall way. "I'm starving, you want something to eat, Viv?"

All four women looked at each other; Morgana was heading directly their way, just like they knew she would.

"Why do we have to _pretend_?" The new maid insisted in a whisper.

"Shh!"

Within moments, Morgana and Vivian appeared, and immediately the lady of the house looked at the maids; they were meant to be making dinner, yet they were all in the dining room. She looked towards Alice and Marge who were arranging plates which looked fine where they were. And to the corner, Stella and a new maid...shining spoons? Morgana pointed to the maid next to Stella, putting on her best 'nice voice'. "I don't think I know your name."

The maid looked up at the infamous Morgana like a deer caught in headlights. "My name is Doris, ma'am."

"Doris, a mighty fine job you're doing there with that silver spoon there," Morgana said with a nod, walking closer to the jittery maid. "But Doris…you don't shine spoons with that coarse apron." Marge looked at Stella who was doing the same, and not using the special cloth for the expensive china—but Stella knew better.

"Why are all of y'all out here and not in the kitchen?" Morgana finally asked, her jack terrier senses smelling out the women for the rats they were.

None of the maids responded, but stopped their idle tasks since their cover had been blown.

Morgana's cat like eyes locked on the closed doors of the kitchen; they were never closed. Morgana took a few steps to the door, only to have Alice, Marge and Stella scamper before her, spreading themselves along the door as a barrier. "What are you doing?" Morgana asked as the women pressed their baks against the double doors to hinder her entry; it was nearly a comical sight.

The three looked at each other, trying to decide who would be the one to address Morgana's question. Neither of them wanted to be on her bad side. The most verbal of the maids decided to take courage, and speak up.

"Miss Morgana," Marge was careful to add the polite prefix, "Arthur said to scoot on outta the kitchen, and he didn't want no one in there 'til he came out. Anyone who even so much as opened the door would be fired, he said."

Morgana looked at the shut doors. "So what, he barricaded himself in there?"

"Yes'm."

"Why would he do that?" Vivian asked, standing next to Morgana.

The three maids remained silent, and the new member took this to mean that it was her turn to answer. "He's in there talkin' to Gwen, ma'am." But when she received dirty looks from the other three women, she knew she had misread their signals.

"Talkin' to Gwen, is he?"

"Yes'm."

"And what are they talkin' 'bout?" Vivian asked.

The staff all looked at each other. Each knew why Arthur wanted to be alone with Gwen, for the topic of their conversation was undoubtedly standing before them.

"Well, Arthur can't fire me: I'm goin' in."

"Miss Morgana, I don't reckon that's a wise thing to do," Marge voiced her concern. "He was mighty serious, Miss. I think it'd be best to leave him be—only if that's what you want, of course," Marge added quickly.

Morgana turned to look at Vivian, weighing her options.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So, I hope that chapter wasn't too hard to read! Add me to your alert, and leave me a review telling me what you thought. Don't forget to tell all your friends, and tweet #MLMS!


	35. Chapter 35

_Oh my goodness, CH. 34 recieved the best response of any chapter to date! Thank you so much for taking the time to write the comments and messages; your kind words really brighten my day! I hope you all enjoy 35 as much as 34, because I had a lot of fun writing this one. And don't forget to leave a comment, add to your favorites, etc. I find that my readers will point out symbolism and clever parallels to the show, when I'm just trying to get to the next scene! Oh well, I'll take the 'genius' credit ;)_

_Anyhow, in this chapter I took a lot from the show-this is still a "Merlin" fanfic! And on that note-any one who is currently in Pierrefonds and actuallly watching the filming of Merlin: I..am...jealous! Just make sure to put up a lot of good pictures and videos, okay? Twitter take the edge off of my Merlin relapse!_

_I also hope for all of you non-Americans out there, the second part of the first scene isn't too confusing. Sometimes I worry about using Southern slang and good ol' expressions and abbreviations, in fear that I may confuse some people who aren't used to the Southern dialect/English is a second language. But it seems that y'all have been able to grasp the gist so far, so enough rambling! Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 35: Magic, Voodoo, and Hoodoo<strong>

Gwen watched her fellow maids scamper out of the kitchen like their hair was on fire, loudly pulling the doors shut behind them. She watched Arthur view the entire scene which he had created with a smug smile, no doubt content at how efficiently he had cleared the room.

"You don't think that was a bit over the top, do you?" Gwen asked, walking over to the sink to wash her flour-crusted hands.

"Why, do you? I think the 'ten seconds' addition was a nice touch for urgency."

Gwen looked over her shoulder at Arthur, shaking her head in mock reproach. "Well, congratulations? I hope whatever it is, that it's urgent."

I just wanted to see you Guinevere."

Gwen's head tilted slightly to the side, as her eyes narrowed as they analyzed. "That's it?"

Arthur beckoned for Gwen to come closer, and he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her in tightly the moment she was within reach. She slightly gasped at the quick movement, and placed her hands on his broad shoulders.

"Isn't wanting to see you enough? Plus, it seems that in these past two days I've become like a ghost."

Gwen pushed Arthur's blonde bangs farther to the side. "I haven't been trying to ignore you—but you know what it's been like around here. I've just been trying to be careful more than usual."

Arthur nodded. "I know." His fingers trailed up her back, and paused at her hair which was in a braid to the side. "You look really pretty today."

"I thought I was pretty every day?" Gwen teased.

"It feels like forever sine I've kissed you," Arthur mumbled, tilting his head for a kiss only to have Gwen turn her hand in the opposite direction, and his lips crashed with her cheek instead. He opened his eyes, looking at her confusedly.

"Arthur, not here," Gwen whispered trying to push away, but Arthur only held on tighter.

"Why not? Anyone who values their job and life will not step within ten feet of that door. So…we have all of the time in the world…"

Gwen pressed her hands against Arthur's chest more adamantly this time, creating semi-permanent space.

"Arthur, we can't stay in here forever without being _more _suspicious."

"Okay, okay, I'll be a good boy, I swear. But seriously: I wanted to see if you were okay, Guinevere."

Gwen looked away momentarily, as she felt Arthur's deep blue gaze analyzing her reaction. "I'm fine, Arthur." Gwen knew her answer didn't sound too convincing, and she only hoped that Arthur wouldn't push it—but then again, it _was_ Arthur.

"You're not fine. You've ignored me for the past two days."

"I told you already: I wasn't ignoring you. Everyone is so afraid of slipping up: saying or doing something that'll cost 'em their jobs. I have to pretend too, you know. You may forget, but I do work here, and I need this job or else my family is out on the street."

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed. Did she really think he'd let that happen? "I won't let that happen."

"That's beside the point, Arthur."

"Has Morgana said anything to you? 'Cause if she has, I'll—"

"No, she hasn't uttered a single word to me. I clean her room when I'm sure she's not there, and if I pass her on the estate, we just pretend we didn't see one another. I have nothing to say to her, and I surely don't wanna hear what she has to say to me."

"There's something wrong with her, Guinevere."

Gwen rolled her eyes, resting her back against the counter as she folded her arms over her chest. "Yeah, the entire house heard just how wrong she was."

"No, I'm serious: she was _never _like this before. I never thought there'd come a day where I was holding her off from Stella."

"People change—usually for the worst."

"No: not Morgana."

"Uhmm…I think that's been disproven."

"It's Vivian, it's got to be. All of this 'family honor' mumbo jumbo and 'everyone knowing their place' bologna started when they started to become chummy."

Gwen shook her head again.

"What are you shaking your head for?"

"'Cause it's not Vivian—she may be annoying, but she's not a racist."

Arthur's eyes widened in shock, before they narrowed as he doubled over in hearty laughter. "I can't believe you—you're serious?" Arthur nearly croaked, as he sobered at Gwen's serious stare. "Are you crazy? She is the biggest—don't you remember the way she talked down to you at the Fall Ball? And she doesn't have many good things to say 'bout colored people in general."

"Maybe she's a little snooty and spoiled: I'll give you that. But I don't think racism is in her heart—you learn how to tell the moment you meet someone. Don't you remember how shocked Vivian was at Morgana's rant? She was absolutely horrified."

Arthur took pause, never really thinking of it in those terms.

"Besides," Gwen continued with a sigh, "it takes more than one person to totally transform a person the way Morgana has. Don't blame all of this on Vivian, Arthur."

"I'm not," he said too quickly. "So, if you can tell if bigotry is in someone's heart…what about Morgana? What do you reckon 'bout her heart?"

"I—I thought I knew, but I guess I don't," Gwen said somberly, looking at her feet. She had once considered Morgana a friend, and now what were they—enemies?

"All this talk 'bout Morgana and her new attitude is really puttin' a damper on my mood," Arthursaid, changing the subject.

"All this talk 'round the house 'bout Morgana just reminds me how ugly some people can be, and for no good reason at all…no good reason at all."

Arthur picked up Gwen's right hand, and gave it a small kiss. "If everyone was like you, the world would be a much better, happier place."

Gwen wrapped her arms around Arthur, sighing in content as she inhaled his masculine scent as his arms embraced her securely yet again.

"I love you so much Arthur, and I'm sorry if I don't say it enough." Gwen closed her eyes as she felt Arthur sigh contently against her.

Arthur smiled at Gwen's words, stroking her hair. "You_ show_ me how much you care for me. Despite the crazy world we live in, I know I can depend on you."

"I'm the one who can depend on you," Gwen corrected. "I've lost count the number of times you've saved me in one way or another."

"Am I your knight in shining armor?"

"You are _definitely _my knight in shining armor."

Arthur took a deep breath. He had mentally anticipated this conversation, and had gone through it countless times, but all of the eloquent words he had prepared suddenly slipped from his mind, and he felt his throat go dry like the Sahara. "Guinevere, I'm twenty-two."

Gwen looked up at Arthur quickly. "Uhm…okay?"

"I say you and I pack up our bags, take one last look at this sorry town and then say 'to hell with it'! I mean…why are we still here, anyhow?"

"Arthur," Gwen began taking a small step backward, "my family is here. I've lived here my entire life."

"But—I know they are and family is important to you," Arthur said slightly hanging his head. "But aren't I important to you too?" Arthur realized how childish he sounded, and decided to elaborate. "I'm just letting you know that I don't plan on staying here the rest of my life, because I plan to be with you instead. I've made my decision, and I know deep down you've made yours too, even if you are a little scared." Arthur let his words hang silently in the air for potency.

Gwen took another step backward, her light eyes wide with the stark realization of what was finally happening—in his kitchen of all places. She wanted to faint, despite what she had told herself since she found the ring box in the motel bathroom—Guinevere Gibson was not at all prepared for any sort of proposal. Oh no, she _really _felt like fainting.

"Guinevere, I'm not Lorenzo—I won't leave you without a trace or a goodbye, and I'm not Morgana—I respect you. And I know we can make a life together, and every time I think of my future with you, I can't help but smile. I promise to always take care of you, and I'll try the best that I can to be the man you deserve. "

"Arthur," Gwen said tenderly, resting her warm hand on his jaw. "You're already all that I want." Gwen wasn't prone to impatience, but she just wanted Arthur to just spit it out already!

Arthur smiled, his nerves calming slightly at Gwen's soothing words. "Guinevere—"

"No! Miss Morgana, don't!"

Arthur and Gwen fell from 'Cloud Nine', as they looked towards the door where they heard one of the maid's outburst.

"Oh, for the love of God!" Arthur exclaimed as he faintly heard Morgana yelling on the other side. Of all the times she could pitch another fit, she had to choose now? And in front of the kitchen?

"It's my house," Morgana continued "and Arthur can hold his private meetings elsewhere. Now would you please get out of my way or _I'll_ fire all of y'all! This is insane!"

Arthur and Gwen quickly took two large steps away from one another, as the double doors swung open, with Marge and Alice stumbling through the threshold and into the kitchen.

The two maids appeared to be out of breath, fumbling to explain to Arthur. "We told her Mister Arthur!" Marge blurted out immediately, just gaining balance from her jostle when she lost her balance against the door she was guarding with her life.

"We told her: aint nobody was allowed in the kitchen 'til you said so."

Morgana looked at the two lovebirds who looked at her with wide eyes, standing far apart from one another—suspiciously far. It was obvious that she had interrupted something, and by judging how flustered Gwen was, and how Arthur's jaw was set in irritation, it was quite important. Oops.

"Sorry, but I missed the memo where the family kitchen became your little office space." Morgana slightly turned toward the open door, calling out to Vivian. "Hey, Viv: you can come on in now."

After a few moments, Vivian popped her head in the kitchen, giving a sheepish smile. "Nah, I reckon I'm good out here Morgana!" The petite blonde quickly fell away back to the dining room.

"Oh, y'all don't mind me," Morgana said walking to the fridge. "I'm just fixin' to faint from hunger and thirst, is all."

Arthur gritted his teeth together as he watched his cousin calmly take a pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge, and filled a tall glass with the sugary amber liquid. She then proceeded to stare at him as she sipped away in content.

"What? You want some?" Morgana asked, holding up the glass.

Arthur looked to Gwen who only stared at her feet: everything was ruined. He turned his fiery gaze back to Morgana who watched him expectantly, drinking happily away. He wanted to knock the drink out of her hand, and drag her out of the kitchen kicking and screaming, if need be. But that wouldn't solve anything. Morgana's smug grin grated Arthur's last nerve.

"I'm going for a smoke," Arthur grumbled, quickly brushing past his cousin who waved goodbye.

Morgana's head turned to watch her cousin trudge out off the kitchen in a huff, before she turned to Gwen. "I thought he quit the cigs? You know, those things cause the cancer."

Gwen opened her mouth for a simple agreement, but the maids who had been banished from the kitchen returned quietly, each woman returning to their previous work station, saving Gwen from having to respond.

"Vivian, let's go upstairs!" Morgana called towards the living room. She finished her drink, and set the empty glass next to the new maid who stood at the counter. "Could you take care of that for me Dorothy? Thanks."

"My name is 'Doris'," the new maid said but Morgana was already sashaying out of the kitchen, whistling some unrecognizable tune before chatting away happily with Vivian in the next room.

All five women had watched Morgana's exit it silent awe, expressions of sheer disbelief were displayed on each of their face's as they grappled for the appropriate words to think the dense layer of awkwardness which hung in the air.

"What…is…wrong with the people up in here?" Doris asked, holding up the empty glass Morgana had just placed before her. "Everyone 'round town told me that _this_ house was the best to work at, and I show up, and it's like everyone aint right in their heads—like God skipped them when He handed out good sense!"

The remaining four couldn't help but chuckle at Doris' last statement, but she remained completely serious, her mouth in a straight rigid line—there was nothing funny about the behavior she had witnessed.

"Girl, it wasn't always like this and it'll pass."

"All in all, everyone gets on alright. The staff work and laugh together and the family was always respectful and grateful. Sure, run-ins happened every now and then, but you're right—it is the best house in town to work for. But it's like Morgana just up and snapped one day," Stella said quietly. "She was one of the kindest people I knew—know. Ah, the sweet thing: she would always be dragging in these raggedy or wounded animals. She'd cry and beg her uncle to let her keep them just long enough so they could recover, and she'd make me promise to keep Arthur away from her pets, 'cause that boy would always wanna do some kinda mischief on them." Stella recounted the fond memory of Morgana, her smile widening as her narration progressed.

Alice and Marge agreed in gentle laughter: they vividly remembered numerous occasions of such love and charity. It was easy to forget that they were talking about the same person who had had an insult-hurling fit for the entire house to hear. The women huddled closer together, so their voices wouldn't carry.

"What do you reckon did it Stella? What made her go crazy?" Doris asked, desperate for more information.

"She aint crazy, Doris," Gwen quickly cut in.

"You don't call how she's actin' _crazy_?"

"She's just having a rough time."

"What are you defending her for?" Marge asked loudly.

Gwen remained silent at the question.

"Y'all, I think I know what done it—I know why she's been acting so funny lately."

Everyone looked to Marge in expectation, their mouths slightly parted as they awaited an answer which they lacked.

"She's mixed up with the devil," Marge declared with a confident nod and wag of her finger. "Mmhmm, you know what I'm talking 'bout y'all: magic, the devil's work. I reckon the girl might even be possessed, poor child."

There was a moment of deafening silence, before a barrage of feminine scoffs and outcries at the offered explanation. "What _are_ you talkin' 'bout, _magic_? Morgana aint into no voodoo."

"I aint said 'voodoo' did I?" Marge felt it necessary to clarify. "I mean y'all, just think 'bout it," she began excitedly. "When people are involved with that witchcraft, they don't act in their right minds. All of a sudden Morgana's actin' a spawn from hell and y'all think it's a coincidence? No siree, I'm old and smart enough to know when it's the devil's hand at work."

"That is _literally_ the most ridiculous thing I have _ever _heard," Gwen said shaking her head. "You have no proof of anything."

Stella rested a hand on her hip, looking at her delusional and rambling coworker. "You've said a lot of fool things before Marge…but this really takes the 'crazy cake'."

"But y'all: don't deny that it _could _happen, that it _could _be true! I don't hear any other explanations," Marge stated defiantly as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"The only people who mess with magic in these parts are the Negroes— and we all know who…"

"Mhmm, we sure do," everyone else affirmed.

"So, we all know then that Morgana wouldn't be caught dead 'round those people, so you're just spitting out nonsense Marge."

Marge's shoulders slumped; she thought it was a valid hypothesis but no one took her seriously. "Fine, y'all go on then. But when that witch—"

"She aint a witch!"

"—Puts a hex on all of y'all, and y'all wake up with donkey ears, I'll just sit back with my good ears saying 'I told you so'."

"Marge, would you quit your yapping! Donkey ears? Maybe_ you've_ finally lost it!"

"And y'all will be braying too!"

"If Morgana was a witch—which she aint—I don't think she'd waste time doing childish things like that."

"Fine, I wasn't gonna go there and get all sinister, but if she's into that magic stuff then I'm sure she could do things to hurt us."

"Where are we living; the bayou?" Alice asked sarcastically with a scoff.

Marge pointed at Stella, continuing despite her negative reactions. "Stella, she's had her eye on you, girl. I reckon you should check your car and house for charms, and under your outside mats for cursed chalk."

"That girl doesn't know the first thing 'bout no charms or chalk, Marge," Stella said pinching the bridge of her nose in exhaustion.

"Yeah, well we'll see…I'm just makin' sure to stay on her good side."

"Could she really do those things?" Doris asked wide eyed, her voice trembling in terror. "You know…my Aunt Millie-Mae was into that voodoo mess too, and she could make—"

"I didn't say _voodoo_! Aren't any of y'all listening?" Marge nearly shrieked.

"No!"

"Magic, voodoo, hoodoo, it's all the same!" Gwen burst out. "You're making all of this up!"

"It aint all the same! And I'm just trying to give an explanation, which y'all still haven't done yet. So speak up, I'd like to hear it."

Stella placed her hand on Doris' shoulders, shocked that the girl had literally been rendered speechless. "Doris girl, don't listen to Marge. Aint no one in this house is into the voodoo—or magic. Morgana just must be stressed, or maybe she's upset with one of us—for what, we don't know. There's no need to be frightened, sugar."

Doris looked around at the women, before audibly gulping. "I reckon I need some fresh air."

The remaining four maids watched Doris scamper out of the kitchen, her feet moving down the hall as if she were running. Alice and Gwen leveled glares in Marge's direction, while Stella swatted the loud maid's arm in reprimand.

"Are you happy now that you scared that poor girl half to death with your bologna?"

"How was I supposed to know she'd react like that? Tarnation, you'd think the world's falling off rotation or something the way folks have been acting."

Alice rolled her eyes, walking back to the stove to make sure her dish wasn't burning. "You need to learn to put a filter on that mouth of yours."

"I didn't know that talking 'bout magic would scare her off like that. I'll apologize later, dang."

Marge closed her mouth for all of fifteen seconds as she resumed chopping vegetables for the dinners salad, before she began to think out loud. "I wonder if Morgana knows how to make them dolls: you know, the ones you put push-pins in to hurt folk? I bet she's got four of 'em…and they look just like us, and she sticks needles in when—"

"Marge!"

Marge finally wised up, and decided to work in silence, and everyone else followed. Not only were they fearful that Morgana may overhear Marge's ludicrous claims, but they were each feeling the beginnings of a migraine.

* * *

><p>Arthur stood on his toes, trying to obtain a better look around the public park, before turning to Merlin. "I don't see him, do you? You figure he'd stick out in a crowd…" Arthur's head swiveled as he tried to take in what was going on in each direction.<p>

Merlin slurped quietly at his coffee. "Maybe he's not here yet, but he will be; Gaius never goes back on his word." Merlin held up the newspaper Gaius had instructed him to bring during their telephone discussion the day before. "Remember, Gaius said we should sit on a bench and pretend to be reading something; then _he'd_ find _us_."

Arthur held up his own paper. "Right, I forgot. lets go find one then; I wanna get this over with." Arthur tapped his foot as he ran ahand through his hair, his nervous tic.

Merlin spotted an empty bench large enough for three, and began to walk in that direction. "Get it over with? I'm excited!"

"Of course you're excited, your future isn't hanging in the balance."

"Don't be so dramatic, I'm sure Gaius didn't find anything bad." Merlin sat down, immediately crossing his legs and perching his paper on his knee. "It had to be done anyhow, remember Gaius said: no surprises."

Arthur opened up his own paper, but looked at Merlin. "I mean, you're the only person I know better than Guinevere—"

"And she's the sweetest most innocent girl on the face of the planet. What, are you afraid she's an axe-murderer or Soviet spy?"

"Not that bad…"

"Besides, I'm a little curious—aren't you? This will probably just reinforce what we already know though: that Gwen is a perfect angel with zero flaws."

To any passing pedestrian, the two young men appeared to be casually enjoying a read of the local paper, and discussing local events rather than waiting for an influential lawyer to receive information on Gwen Gibson's past.

"I feel like I'm in the FBI or somethin', like I'm undercover," Arthur said, turning the page for authenticity.

Merlin did the same. "We're so inconspicuous, I feel like I'm on a secret mission," Merlin whispered in return. "I wonder if any one we know is around."

"Better not to risk it," Arthur muttered.

"So…about yesterday: wow, Morgana strikes again!" Merlin said with unwarranted enthusiasm. "You just can't get a break any where, can you?"

"I don't feel like talking 'bout it Merlin," Arthur grumbled; he had been so close.

Merlin turned the page in his paper. "I mean first, we go through all that trouble in setting up that cabin really romantically, and then your car breaks down."

"Oh right, I forgot about that," Arthur said sarcastically.

"Then finally, you're able to get her alone again—in the kitchen of all places; real romantic— only to have Morgana barging in just as you're about to pop the question. Maybe we should reconsider renting a jumbo jet."

Arthur dropped the newspaper he was pretending to read, glaring at his pestering friend. "Would you just shut up for once in your sorry life, Merlin?"

"I'm just sayin'…"

"Well don't 'just say'. Just sit there, be quiet, and pretend like you're reading the damn paper."

The two were silent for a while, and a minute slowly drew into five and then ten, and before long Merlin and Arthur were actually reading the paper and were so engrossed that they didn't realize Gaius' presence when he actually arrived.

"Nice cover, gentlemen," the old man said with a snicker, setting his brief case on his lap as he promptly sat next to Merlin.

Merlin and Arthur immediately folded their papers, turning to Gaius.

"Let's get straight down to business gentlemen, shall we? I have meetings booked for the rest of the day."

"By all means," Arthur leaned over Merlin slightly to hear Gaius better.

"Alright," Gaius rubbed his hands together in giddy anticipation before unlocking his brown leather briefcase. He began as if he were narrating a story, and in a way he was.

"Guinevere Louise Gibson; born September 24, 1934. Aged twenty, graduated from Dearborn High School top of her class in 1952. Father is Thomas Elliot Gibson aged forty," Gaius opened a manila folder for some notes he had jotted down. "Married right out of high school to his sweetheart Celia Dubose, deceased 1942 in a car wreck." Gaius fished around for the coroner's report he was able to dig up. "Poor thing, only twenty-eight; died on impact with a truck; faulty brakes, and the sad irony is her husband was a mechanic." Gaius smiled, picking up another folder. "Now that's out of the way, it's time for the good stuff.

Arthur blanched. "By 'the good stuff', do you really mean 'the bad stuff'?"

"Arthur, I'm happy to report that your gal may as well be a girl scout, sweet thing."

Arthur exhaled, only then realizing that he had been holding his breath.

"Alright: the Gibson's finances aren't in terrible shape for a family of their standing. There is hardly anything to say 'bout their bank account though, but they're not saddled in debt either. I was able to get my hands on their limited account statements, mortgage, salaries—"

"How were you able to do all of that?"

"I'm a finance lawyer, I ask for account statements, and no one bats an eye. But, going through these," Gaius flipped through some pages, "it seems as if her father is suffering from some serious medical condition." Gaius looked up at Arthur for explanation.

"How serious? I know that Guinevere has to pick up pain medication for his back every now and then, but she's never made it sound life threatening.

"And it may not be, but over the last month I can tell that his dosage has increased because they've been buying the medicine more frequently and in larger amounts. Also, you have to take into account that he's bending and stretching all day with cars so if his condition gets worse he can't work. And even with the three salaries, his health is taking a real financial toll on the family and something's got to give or the Gibsons may not have that pretty little house of theirs for much longer."

"I didn't know this was such a problem, but now that I do, Guinevere doesn't have to worry about it; I'll take care of her."

Gaius noted how quickly Arthur was willing to defend and protect Gwen. "Moving on to her brother: Elliot Marcus Gibson, aged twenty-two, but there's not much to say about him. He's never had any run-ins with the law, he pays his taxes, yadda yadda. There were no red flags really, which makes my job and your life much easier."

Arthur sat back in the bench, smiling in thanksgiving that the meeting had gone so smoothly.

"One last thing…though, and don't become alarmed."

"Well that's not a very good introduction!"

"Take it easy, take it easy," Gaius said holding up his left hand, and using his right to pull out another folder. "This Gwen is one sharp girl. This year she applied to Adamson College's School of Nursing down yonder in Georgia."

Arthur's eyes narrowed, as he resisted saying anything until Gaius finished.

"And she was accepted: full scholarship and everything, but—"

Arthur had to resist jumping up from the park bench. "Gwen can't afford college!" He burst out. Everything Gaius said may have been true, but somehow he had confused the facts on this one.

"Did you hear the part where I said 'full _scholarship'_?"

"Well, you still got it wrong. If she applied anywhere, especially in _Georgia_—she would've told me. She wouldn't even think about leaving the state without talking to me first—I know she wouldn't."

Merlin felt his heart, to make sure that it was still safely within his chest. If at all possible, he actually became paler as he watched Arthur become distraught with the news which he himself had withheld—which he had altered.

Gaius didn't mean to throw the copy of the admission into Arthur's lap, but that's how it happened. "I'm sorry son, but those are the cold hard facts."

Arthur remained silent and frozen, not touching the papers which rested on his thighs. His mouth went dry, and he couldn't speak. There is no way Gwen would even consider going to Georgia without him…would she?

"I don't mean to cause any sudden health problems for you…but there's something you've gotta see—there's more to this story, and even I don't have it all figured out. But since I uncovered this, I have been wondering: why did your cousin turn in the application on Gwen's behalf?"

Arthur looked at Merlin who appeared to be as equally shocked, before turning to Gaius and pointing at his chest. "M-m-y cousin? As in Morgana Pendragon?"

"As in _the_ Morgana Pendragon," Gaius said with a nod. "She was the one who submitted everything; the transcripts, the letter of recommendation; but the admissions office said the application was later retracted by Morgana as well, and I can't seem to find out why. It's just 'poof'," Gaius said with a snap of his fingers. "Actually, I called the admissions office, and they said they weren't at liberty to tell me the reason for the retraction. Useless bureaucracy," Gaius said under his breath. The largest and most interesting piece of the puzzle was missing, and he had actually lost sleep trying to find it.

"I haven't heard a word of this. And I can't believe that if Guinevere knew that she wouldn't say anything to me: we don't keep secrets like that. And Morgana sure as hell didn't say anything! They're not even friends anymore; none of this makes any sense."

"Perhaps, your lady doesn't know…"

"This doesn't make any sense Gaius—how, why wouldn't she know? So what…Morgana did this without telling Gwen? I'm confused!"

Gaius shrugged. "This is only an old man's humble speculation, but Gwen had never spoken to the school, she didn't write a single word on the application form, she didn't ask her high school for her transcripts; it was all Morgana. And she was the one who pulled the plug on it, so in theory, Gwen didn't have to know anything."

Arthur and Merlin looked at each other silently.

"I'd recommend not to make an inquiry on this subject."

"And why not?"

"Because it's too soon to let everything unravel when we're so close. If you mention one word about the nursing school, it may become apparent that you're having someone do a bit of digging. I know you too are curious, but it'll serve you best to keep your lips locked, especially if Morgana is keeping this a secret for a reason."

"I don't like this…" Arthur said truthfully.

"You may not have to be quiet for long. Now that I know everything is on the up and up with Gwen and her kin, I've begun to look over the will your mother had left you."

"And…"

Gaius smiled, showing straight teeth. "Don't plan on being a beggar anytime soon. You'll be comfortable, I assure you. So far, I don't see any loopholes where Uther could intervene, but I'm going through it very carefully." Gaius looked at his watch, quickly closing his briefcase. "And on that note, I must get going, I'm afraid." Gaius shook Arthur's hand, then Merlin, but the boy appeared to be queasy and his eyes vacant. "I'll call Merlin again to set up our next meeting. I think we should meet next with Father Soma."

"Good idea," Arthur agreed. He turned to Merlin. "What do you think, Merlin? Merlin…hey, Merlin!" Arthur nudged his friend in the rib. "Did you hear? Gaius said he'd call you for the next meeting."

Merlin had snapped out of his thought-filled daze, and looked up only to find that Gaius had vanished.

* * *

><p>Arthur Pendragon felt like a bona fide stalker. For the past hour, he had been sitting in his car on the off-beaten road behind Gwen's house which they had used to secretly escape on many occasions. Now he was using it to survey her home on a lovely Saturdaymorning. Forty-five minutes ago, Arthur had watched Tom Gibson leave the house for work and Arthur thought he would have left his car then, but he decided to wait a little longer to calm his nerves. He looked at the box of cigarettes in the center console, and debated whether or not he should have a quick smoke to calm his nerves; he decided against it. After all, Gwen still thought he had quit.<p>

Arthur had considered bringing his military-grade binoculars with him, but he decided against it after much deliberation—his twenty-twenty eye sight would have to be sufficient.

During the day, Gwen kept her blinds open and Arthur could see into much of the small house. He was unnerved by the fact, realizing that any Tom, Dick, or Harry could plop right where he was and they'd have a free show into her hallway, parts of the living room, her bedroom—Arthur pushed the thought out of his head, as he contemplated what the total expense would be to furnish Gwen's home with thick drapes. The thought made him smile.

He watched as Gwen walked back into her room; she had just walked to the kitchen with her sewing kit and what appeared to be some clothing. But now she was bending over something near her window, before standing straight again leaving the room once again. After five minutes of waiting, and then ten, Arthur feared that Gwen had left to run errands like she usually did on Saturday mornings.

Scrambling to his feet, Arthur rushed out of his newly repaired convertible.

"Shit, the flowers," he muttered to himself as he opened the door yet again to retrieve the bouquet of pink and white orchid he had ordered especially for the occasion. He paused to lean over his car mirror to sweep his bangs into place, and to make sure there was nothing on his face or food in his teeth. He patted his pocket to make sure that he actually had the ring—he wanted to reduce the margin for error as much as possible, he wasn't prepared to make a _fourth_ attempt.

Arthur looked around the wooded area which surrounded him, and the only thing he heard was the chirp of birds flying atop of him towards their nests, and the sound of the wind swooshing past him. He looked up at the sky, and he knew that it was about to rain. Running to Gwen's back door, Arthur was positive that no one would be able to see him through the shrubbery and wood fence around the small abode.

Taking one last deep breath, Arthur secured the flowers under his arm before knocking quietly on the door. When no response came, his heart sank as he realized that Gwen had probably left. All that waiting was for nothing. He knocked a little bit harder, hoping against all hope that maybe she just didn't hear him, when the door cracked open slightly. Arthur twisted the knob, to find that the door was actually unlocked. He gasped at the realization, his mind churning out scenarios involving a hopeless Gwen and deranged predator or Klansmen who could just walk in without a care. She needed to be more careful.

Arthur quietly let himself in, only to find the home silent. "Guinevere?" Arthur heard a small shriek come from Gwen's room, which caused him to jump back slightly. Yes! At least she was there!

"Arthur?"

"Yes, it's me!" Arthur nearly sang; he was so happy that he nearly forgot how nervous he had been.

"Arthur!" Gwen shrieked again.

Arthur took the few strides necessary to Gwen's room, stepping inside with a bright smile. "Hi—"

Gwen held the small towel which was wrapped around her chest even tighter, using one hand to push her wet hair out of her face. "Arthur, what are you doing here?"

"I came in through—the back door was open. About that, anyone can just walk through like I did."

That didn't answer the question. "It's a safe neighborhood, and…" Gwen looked around the room nervously. "It's broad daylight, Arthur, are you crazy? Oh my goodness..did something happen? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong: I just came to see you beautiful. And I know it's broad daylight, but no one's home."

"Yeah, but—how'd you know that?" Gwen asked, raising a dark brow.

"Here! I brought you flowers!" Arthur swung the bouquet from behind his back, and Guinevere smiled as she took them, forgetting her tricky question.

"They're stunning," Gwen's eyes illuminated with joy at the unexpected gift.

"I know they're you're favorite."

"Did I forget something? It's not my birthday…"

"A man can't bring his lady flowers?"

Gwen gave Arthur an onceover, before pointing towards the hall. "Let me change first, okay?"

"I'm fine with you wearing just that!" Arthur called out form the hallway, before Gwen pushed him out of the room, and closed the door on his face with a sweet giggle.

After five minutes, Gwen told Arthur that he could finally come in. She stood in front of her mirror, tilting slightly to the side as she finished drying her hair, then putting it in a pony tail so the curls wouldn't touch her back.

"Thank you for the flowers Arthur, they really are beautiful," Gwen said with a bright smile. She walked over to the bed, picking up the bouquet where she had rested them, closing her eyes as she took in their subtle fragrance which she so desired. Had she been able to afford them, Gwen would have her home filled with orchids.

"Arthur, you're looking extra dapper today: are you going to work afterward?" Gwen admired Arthur's dark blue three-piece suit, and the silver silk tie he wore. She sat on her bed, her simple purple dress falling just above her knees as she crossed her legs.

Arthur stood just past the door way, unmoving as he watched Gwen talk happily.

"Arthur…what's wrong?" Gwen asked with a nervous laugh, as she noticed that Arthur had hardly moved. She would've thought he was a gorgeous marble statue, had his eyes not been blinking. Gwen stood, looking Arthur in the eye when she noted that he was slightly sweating on his forehead. She picked up his large hands which to her surprise weren't trembling, but were feverishly warm. "Arthur, you're scaring me, could you please say something?"

"I don't know why I'm acting like this…" Arthur began, his blue eyes scanning each of Gwen's facial features.

"Neither do I…"

"Actually—yes I do." Arthur led Gwen to her small bed, sitting on the edge as she joined him, still holding her hand. "Guinevere, I'm just gonna come out and say it."

Gwen took a deep breath, as she felt her chest moving faster in anticipation. Her eyes traveled to Arthur's right hand which moved toward his pocket as he continued.

"Oh my goodness, Arthur you don't have to—"

"I've been trying to get this out for the past week, and I've been interrupted each time," Arthur finally pulled out the small velvet box, and he could already see the tears forming in Gwen's eyes. "Guinevere, you're the only woman I have ever loved and I can't imagine what my life would be like without you." Arthur's hand slightly trembled as he took the ring out of its black cushion, and he picked up Gwen's left hand. "It wasn't love at first sight, but I was a fool then. Somehow you've stolen my heart, and I want you to keep it—'til death do us part."

Gwen's free hand covered her mouth as she laughed.

"Guinevere Louise Gibson, my beautiful, caring, funny, and spunky girl: would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Gwen only blinked as she looked at the shining ring: a shining platinum band with a white diamond at the center, flanked by two pear shaped sapphires; just like her necklace. Slowly, her gaze rose to Arthur's whose eyes were wide and filled with expectation, and who refused to look away from Gwen for even a single moment. Gwen suddenly wrapped her arms around Arthur, pulling him in as close to her as physically possible. She shut her eyes tight as she felt his heavy breathing against her chest, and his hands reluctantly rested on her back.

"Uhhmm…is that a 'yes' then?"

Gwen pulled away, quickly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Oh I'm sorry! Yes! Definitely, that's a yes, yes, yes!"

Arthur's bright smile took over his face as he laughed once, a mixture of relief and joy as he picked up Gwen's left hand once again. With ease, he slid the engagement ring on her ring finger and it was a perfect fit.

"Oh my goodness Arthur, this ring is beautiful!"

"I bought while I was away in Columbia for a week, do you remember?"

"Of course, I missed you like crazy." Gwen leaned her head on Arthur's shoulder, as she held up her left hand, marveling at its ornate new edition. "Are we really getting married?" Gwen asked as Arthur wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in closer. He kissed the top of his head.

"As soon as possible"

"But we can't here—it's literally against the law."

"I know, and we won't—just trust me Guinevere, I'm sorting everything out."

Gwen looked up at Arthur. "What does that mean?"

"It means not to worry. As your new fiancé, just know that I'm handling everything, and soon everything will make sense, okay?" Arthur leaned over, kissing Gwen on the cheek. "Are you happy?"

"I'm ecstatic: I can't wait to be your wife."

Arthur smiled, liking the sound of those words very much. "Guinevere Pendragon…it has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Wait—you are going to take my name, right?"

"Of course, Guinevere Pendragon it is. But Arthur…when will we tell people?"

"When I have everything sorted, then we'll break it to them together."

Gwen wish Arthur wasn't being so cryptic, but he always had a handle on things. She knew not to be worried, and that everything would work out in time. "We'll have to leave town…won't we Arthur?"

Arthur sighed, rubbing Gwen's side. "I don't see any way around it Guinevere. I wish we didn't have to, but if we're gonna make a life together we can't do it here."

"Then where?"

"We have a few options."

"…We do?"

Arthur decided that perhaps he should shine a little light on the developing situation for his new fiancée. "A lawyer named Gaius Wilson has been going through my mother's will, to make sure that everything which she has left for me is secure in my name, so that when you and I take off, I'll be able to take care of you."

"Oh mercy…really? You got a lawyer involved?"

"I know my mother left me property around the country, and I bet there's something for me up North somewhere—and that's where we'll go. We'll get a marriage license there as soon as soon as I figure out exactly where _there _is. I also have a priest friend who said he'll take care of the marriage license, and marry us."

"Oh my goodness, you've been doing all of this?" Gwen asked with a smile.

"I wanted to make sure we were protected." Arthur gave Gwen a quick kiss on the lips. "We can talk about all of this over lunch: Merlin had his staff prepare us a meal, and he gave them all the day off so we could have the house all to ourselves."

Gwen stood happily. "Really? That's so sweet of him."

"He didn't have a choice."

Gwen's head went back in laughter. "Alright, I won't hold us up any longer. Just let me get my jacket—it's in the kitchen."

Arthur nodded slightly, watching Gwen nearly skip out of her room. He walked out to join her a few moments later, noting the sewing kit which he had watch her take to the kitchen earlier.

Gwen shrugged her jacket on. "I wish I could wear my ring everywhere."

"I'm sorry that you can't."

"It's not your fault Arthur. I'll keep it somewhere safe until I can wear it openly. But I'm ready, I'm ready to take that leap with you Arthur."

"We have our entire lives to plan together," Arthur said opening his arms, signaling for Gwen to come closer.

"I like the sound of that." Gwen was about to stand on her tiptoes to kiss Arthur before she caught a glimpse of something in the corner of her eye. She turned around quickly towards the kitchen window, only to confirm that Elliot and Bobbi were walking hand in hand down the street towards her home. "Oh, Lord have mercy!"

"What?" Arthur asked, startled by Gwen's sudden change in mood.

Gwen quickly took her jacket off, throwing it to a chair. "Arthur, take off your clothes!"

Arthur's blue eyes widened in delight, as his eyebrows rose. "Huh?"

"I mean your jacket! Take off your _jacket_— hurry!" Gwen said moving her hands for emphasis.

"Whoa ho ho, you really want to do this now Guinevere?" Arthur asked with a wry grin.

Gwen rolled her eyes, standing behind Arthur and tugging his jacket off of his broad shoulders.

"What happened to waiting until the wedding night?"

"Oh my God, Arthur stop it, we're not having sex! Elliot and Bobbi are walking towards the house! I didn't know they were coming!"

Arthur tried to peer out of the window past Gwen. "Jeez, why didn't you just say so?"

Gwen thought for a moment, tapping her foot against the tile as her mind processed her limited possibilities. When it finally dawned on her, Gwen looked at the jacket then back to Arthur. "Oh Arthur, please forgive me," she whimpered, reaching for a pair of scissors which sat atop the sewing kit she had been using.

"Whoa Guinevere what are you doing?" Arthur asked slowly and calmly.

Gwen hastily opened the scissors, dragging one of the blades against the outside breast pocket, undoing the tight seams and causing the pocket to turn into a flap hanging off of the jacket.

Arthur visibly winced as he helplessly watched the tragic assault. "Jesus Christ! Guinevere that jacket is _cashmere_, it cost an upwards of one-hundred dollars!"

"One hundred dollars? Why on earth would you spend that kind of money on a jacket!" Gwen asked, throwing the scissors back to the table without a care.

"Its custom fitted and hand woven from Italy!" Arthur bellowed, hoping that his eyes were deceiving him: that was part of his best and most expensive suit. He pointed at his destroyed jacket. "It's the_ best_ of the _best_, and I wore it for you!"

Gwen shook her head; the suit _really_ didn't matter right now! "Arthur: when Bobbi and Elliot come in here, I need you to pretend that you came to drop this jacket off—and that I'm mending it for you. Do you understand?"

Gwen forgot that she was speaking to the guy who practically invented off the cusp excuses while under pressure. It was refreshing to see that Gwen possessed the same gift—he always knew they were meant for one another. "Got it."

Gwen quickly pulled off her engagement ring, tucking it into the front pocket of her dress. She reached over, picking up a spool of dark blue thread just before the door swung open.

Elliot and Bobbi were laughing lightly, so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't notice Arthur until they were a few steps into the home.

"What the hell?" Elliot immediately asked, as Bobbi jumped backwards and ran into his chest.

"Elliot, I didn't know you were stopping by," Gwen said quickly.

"I didn't know he was either," Elliot said pointing at Arthur.

Gwen cleared her throat as she noted the blatant hostility in Elliot's voice. As for Bobbi, she just looked confused. "Mister Pendragon came by to drop off his jacket for mending," Gwen held up the navy blue jacket, the ripped pocket hanging as she held it. "He needs it done by tomorrow."

Bobbi moved toward Arthur, apparent that she was drinking in his good looks. She finally held out her hand in a formal introduction. "I'm Bobbi Jones, Elliot's girlfriend, or so he thinks," she covered one side of her mouth as she leaned over to whisper to Arthur.

Arthur chuckled at the joke "Nice to meet you Miss Jones, I'm Arthur Pendragon."

Bobbi grinned flirtatiously. "Oh, I know."

Arthur quickly withdrew his hand from the beautiful stranger he had heard much about. Elliot's wrapping of his arm against Bobbi's waist protectively didn't go unnoticed by Arthur, and he took a step backwards towards Gwen.

"Gwen girl, don't you look good? We're still up for lunch tomorrow after church, right?"

Gwen swallowed, nodding her head. "I've been looking forward to it all week."

The four stood in awkward silence for a moment or two, before Bobbi playfully hit Elliot in the chest. "Well, what are you waiting for? Are you gonna get them or not?"

Elliot silently left the kitchen, walking into his former room.

Bobbi turned to Gwen in explanation. "Elliot came to pick up some car manuals he had in his room which he needed for work." Bobbi outstretched her arm, taking hold of Arthur's damaged jacket. She felt the fabric with her long slender fingers, before looking at Arthur with a knowing smile. "Cashmere? Hmm, good taste."

Arthur was surprised that Bobbi was able to identify the fabric. "Indeed, it is. When I was in Rome, I had it custom fitted, and the cashmere is hand woven." He resisted emphasizing his words especially for Gwen's ears.

Bobbi rubbed the material between her fingers. "I can feel: my mama is a seamstress, I know all about that stuff. You got some expensive threads on," Bobbi said motioning to the rest of Arthur's ensemble. Her hand then ran along the broken pocket, where each seam had been tugged out along one edge. "How'd you manage to do this number?"

Arthur looked at Gwen who subtly nodded. "I, uhh..was getting out of my car this morning, and it got caught on part of my door and it ripped right off. I knew to come straight to Gwen: she fixes everything at the house like a master."

Gwen merely blushed.

Bobbi smiled. "Aww, aint that sweet?" Bobbi delicately put the jacket on the table. "Well Mister Pendragon, it's awfully nice to finally put a face to the name. I've heard a lot 'bout you."

"Really?"

"I sure have." Bobbi grinned, making her smooth skin radiate even further. "Are you as bad as they say you are?"

"I don't know..." Arthur wondered how playful he should be with this flirty stranger, not to mention Gwen was right behind him. He decided to play it safe. "I've heard some tall tales. People 'round this town certainly know how to gossip."

"Aint that the Gospel Truth? But who cares? Folk like that are 'bout as useful as buttons on a dishrag."

Arthur looked at Gwen with a grin, and found that she too was smiling. "That's a good way of putting it."

"Aint it!" Bobbi laughed at her own analogy. "Sugar, are you 'bout done down there?" Bobbi called down the hallway towards Elliot.

"Yeah, I'm comin'."

Bobbi waved at Arthur and Gwen once Elliot was by her side again. "Well, bye y'all! Have a nice day Mister Pendragon, and I'll see you tomorrow, girlfriend."

"Bye Gwen," Elliot muttered, turning around to leave.

"Don't be rude, sugar," Bobbi chided quietly taking some books from Elliot.

"See ya Arthur," Elliot added half-heartedly.

The moment the front door closed, Arthur turned to Gwen with a confused expression. "She's something else, isn't she?"

Gwen laughed. "She does come on a little strong."

"I like her, though."

"She's not that bad at all."

"Yeah, but you are…" Arthur said evaluating the state of his jacket. He sucked in a breath, shaking his head at the travesty. "The world's finest cashmere…"

Gwen stood on her tiptoes, giving Arthur a kiss as repayment. "I'll fix it for you, and it'll look even better than it did before, okay? Let's get out of here before something else happens. I want to celebrate!" Gwen yelped with joy as she put the ring back on her finger.

Gwen's joy was always contagious, and Arthur handed her his jacket with a dopey grin. "I can't stay mad at you for too long, Mrs. Pendragon."

Gwen turned around, sliding her arms as Arthur eased on her coat. "Don't get ahead of yourself now: I'm not Mrs. Pendragon yet!"

"Well we'll just have to fix that, won't we?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I know the proposal in the show wasn't as nearly as dramatic, but I just _had_ to spice it up! In case any of you are wondering, I probably have 3-5 more chapters before the end—I still have so much I want to do, but I don't want it to drag! Leave a comment, tell yo' friends…etc.


	36. Chapter 36

_This one took me a little while, because i had to rewrite some parts, take out others for next week, and all all that a little into a controversial topic towards the end, but you'll see: I'm not just a fire-starter, it's all in context! No heart attacks please :) So don't forget to drop me a comment, tell your friends, etc. I hope you all enjoy!_

_Cultural Note:__ When someone says "You put your foot into this", it's a reference to food, and it means that it is tasty. Just clearing up some confusion beforehand!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 36: I'm Not a Witch, But I Feel Like One<strong>

Gwen watched Bobbi flutter about the kitchen, putting the last bowls of food on the table, singing the whole way. Bobbi had prepared a feast of shrimp and grits, hoecakes, and fresh green beans with a sweet potato pie for dessert. She had prepared the meal especially for Gwen, wanting to give her friend a break from her constantly busy schedule, and have someone cater to her needs, if only for a couple of hours. She had told Elliot and her brother to go do something for a few hours, play in traffic if they had to, but she didn't want them within a mile radius of the house. It was "girl time".

"Bobbi, thank you so much, this all looks so good," Gwen could tell that her brother's girlfriend had taken so much time and care into preparing some of Gwen's favorites, and if the heavenly aromas were any indication of the taste; Gwen was sure she would have to be rolled out of Bobbi's house.

"Now, don't you dare be shy girl, I want you to _eat_!" Bobbi said with a bright smile, pouring Gwen a tall and cold glass of sweet tea. She loved having guests over, and she had been bouncing around all day, excited to spend a precious few hours with her new girlfriend. "Go on and take some more of them hoecakes; I reckon you'll keep that pretty little figure of yours still."

Gwen obeyed, unable to say 'no' in the face of Bobbi's cheer. "Oh mercy, you really put your foot in this Bobbi!" Gwen said after she took a large bite of the grits.

"You like it?" Bobbi nearly sang. "Well, go on girl: have some more!"

Gwen looked down at her full plate, wondering how she was going to eat all of the food Bobbi insisted she have.

Bobbi finally sat down across from Gwen at the small round table, folding her legs and setting a napkin in her lap. "So Gwen, how's work been goin'? Anymore crazy fits from that witch?"

Gwen giggled; word had run through town like wildfire that Morgana was fiddling with magic. Gwen would have been worried for her former friend had she thought any of the gossip was remotely valid, so instead she just laughed at the latest and increasingly ridiculous claims "She aint a witch, Bobbi."

"Girlfriend, I know she aint, but it's still funny as hell! She kinda looks like one though, don't she? With that long black hair and that pale skin? Girlfriend needs a _tan_," Bobbi said in all seriousness.

"She's just a little spoiled—everyone is just spreading gossip 'cause they're bored. She aint in cahoots with the devil, and we don't need to bathe her in holy water, or nothin'."

Bobbi shook her head, taking a moment to swallow some of her shrimp and grits. "If she's as bad as you say, girl, I would've been fired from that place a _long _time ago. I wouldn't care if she was the damn queen of England; I aint her slave, and there's no way in hell she could talk down to me like that. I'd _teach_ her some manners."

Gwen giggled, politely covering her mouth. "I'm not as bold as you Bobbi."

"Well, at least you got that gorgeous hunk of a man to look at all day long! How's he doing?"

"Arthur?"

"Are there any other super models running 'round that house?" Bobbi asked sarcastically.

"Arthur's fine, I suppose, I wouldn't really know."

"Fixed up that cashmere suit for him, did you?"

"Yeah, it's good as new," Gwen replied with a simple shrug. And it was true.

"Mhmmm..." Bobbi's fork moved around her plate, but she didn't pick anything else up.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, oh it's nothin'." Bobbi sat quietly, looking down at her food. "I was just thinkin', and stop me if I'm bein' a 'Nosy Nelly'..."

"Okay…"

"Well, there's this pretty little white girl I know through my brother, and I think that her and Arthur should really meet. I feel like they would really hit it off. Would you mind hooking that up?"

Gwen had to remind herself how to swallow without choking. "I…uhmm…sure, I'm not sure it's really appropriate though."

Bobbi's chin rose slightly at Gwen's delayed and unsure response. "Well, he aint with anyone, is he? I'd hate to be a home wrecker."

"Yes—I mean no!"

"Well which one is it, girl?"

"I'm not too sure, but I reckon he's single…"

"Ah, good!" Bobbi said clasping her hands together with a content grin. She sighed happily at the prospect. "They'll make the cutest little couple, and she'll be happy as a clam when I tell her."

Gwen just nodded, hoping the conversation would take a different turn. "That's nice."

There were a few moment of silence, before they were sharply pierced by the sound of Bobbi's fork slamming against the table so hard that it bounced, and the suddenly crazed girl pointed a finger directly at Gwen, grinning from ear to ear. "I knew it! By golly, I _knew_ _it_! Girl, you can't lie for_ nothin'_!"

Gwen looked up at Bobbi, with wide eyes and a slightly parted mouth. Suddenly her throat felt dry and her tongue heavy. A mere "Huh?" was all she could muster.

"Oh, don't you 'huh' me!" Bobbi said with a sassy snap. She gave her nervous guest a once over, before tapping her chin in contemplation. "I must admit: y'all put on a mighty good show, but you can't fool me girlfriend; I'm an expert on men and relationships. I saw the anxious way y'all looked at each other— like two teenagers who had been walked in on by their mama."

"Bobbi!"

"Mmhmm, and you don't even deny it?" Bobbi reclined slightly, taking a sip of her drink as she smiled. "You know, not to be crass, but I've heard stories…but I've never actually known a gal who's been with a white fella. Girl…you sure know how to pick 'em, though. I aint mad at ya!" Bobbi said with a boisterous laugh.

"I didn't pick him, Bobbi."

"Oh, so he went after you then?" Bobbi asked, raising a brow in amusement; she would surely relish every detail of the affair.

"No, it just sorta…happened," Gwen wasn't exactly sure how to explain the intricacies which were her relationship with Arthur.

"These things don't just 'sorta happen'; one of y'all must've gone in for the kill. Girl, how'd you even get _close _to him?"

"What do you mean? I work at the estate." Gwen found the question to be incredibly daft, and Bobbi's eagerness slightly unnerved her.

"So he's done this with other maids before? You know, I wouldn't be surprised; all white guys want them a taste of some brown sugar, don't they?"

Gwen cringed at the analogy, still finding herself too dumbfounded to speak, and Bobbi was all too happy to fill in the silence.

"I mean, I knew he had a way with the ladies, and plenty would line the block for him on a hot August day, but damn…"

"No! He's not like that!" Gwen covered her face with her hands, realizing just how inept she was at explaining.

Bobbi continued despite Gwen's obvious flustered state. "He's got a long rap sheet for bein' a lady-killer, don't he? And no offense, but I'm surprised he even gave you the time of day when he's got all those white hoochies running after him. Just look at Vivian Remington: I work at their house, and everyone knows that she's been chasing after that boy and she's got all the goods." Bobbi was quiet for a moment, as she wondered where exactly she should draw the line with the intimacy of her questions…she was never much for decorum anyhow. "So then, I'm curious as a cat: what's the arrangement y'all have got going?"

Gwen was surprised that Bobbi had finally finished rambling, only to confuse her even more. "Sorry? Arrangement…?"

"Look, we're both grown here," Bobbi scoffed rolling her large eyes. "I don't gotta spell it out, now do I? You can tell me."

"Uhm, there is no arrangement; at least I don't_ think_ so."

Bobbi set her drink down, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course there's an arrangement, there's _always _one with men like that. It's really simple: you give, he takes." Bobbi was able to suppress her boisterous curiosity for a moment, to make more serious inquiries. "I'm not here to judge you Gwen, don't you dare think that for a single moment. I understand girlfriend: we've all gotta do what we've gotta do, and I'm sure you have your reasons. It aint easy out there for working women like us. And sometimes, when the landlord is knockin' on your door for the rent you _wish _you had, the electricity has just been cut off, and your car is fixing to throw itself in the junkyard, we gotta get a little…creative, sometimes do things we don't want to. And I've been there…Lord in heaven knows I've been there," Bobbi said sympathetically. She reached over, resting her hand on Gwen's, which was slightly trembling. "Oh, you poor thing, you can tell me and take a load off. I know you don't have any one to talk to, and I'm a good listener who's been through a few things."

Gwen's eyes widened in astonishment as she began to grasp the gist of Bobbi's insinuations. She knew that everyone would automatically assume what Bobbi had—and the sad thing was that they were friends. "Whoa ho ho, Bobbi it's not like that. Oh dear God, I would never do that—become his 'kept' woman."

"We don't have to call it that if you don't want to."

"Bobbi, it's not like that _at all_!"

"So you keep saying. So tell me: what's it like, then?"

"We're…in love." Gwen hoped that would be the end of the unwanted conversation.

Bobbi's head moved to the side in skepticism, before she emitted a small laugh; a byproduct of nervousness rather than joy. "Wait, you're _serious_?" Bobbi didn't find anything remotely comical about the situation, but laughing even harder seemed to be here reflex. "So y'all use the 'four letter word', huh? Now I really don't understand. It aint supposed to work like that…"

"Bobbi, there's no arrangement because our relationship—I'm not his mistress. We got to know each other, and it turned romantic after a while. I was never pressured: by circumstance or by him, I pay my _own _rent just fine. Arthur tries to buy me things, and he has to force me to take them because I don't want everyone to assume what you have. Lord have mercy, I'm still a _virgin_! I would never do anything like that, especially for money."

Bobbi's large brown eyes widened with each word, and her mind was totally unable to grapple with their meaning. "Tarnation…this don't make _any_ sense. And you're sure that we're talking 'bout the same man? Arthur Pendragon; the guy who made skirt-chasing an Olympic sport?"

Gwen could only nod. "He wasn't as bad as everyone says."

"Do you hear yourself?"

"He's slept with nine women—not that that's a good thing, because he's ashamed of it, but he hasn't deflowered every girl in sight like folks make it sound. I hate it to hear people talk about him like that; like they know him because they've heard some rumors. It makes me sad that Arthur has such a bad reputation, but he's different now."

"Nine…huh…I thought we would be talkin' double digits…" Bobbi listened at Gwen's inflection with each word and her tone, which authenticated her heartfelt words: this was no act, and it certainly wasn't some affair for convenience which she had assumed. No, there was something more going on, and it was like nothing she'd ever heard first hand.

"Wheew, you're gonna have to start from the beginning on this one, because this is definitely...weird." Bobbi lifted her right hand, and put it over her heart. "I swear on the Good Book, my lips are forever sealed and I'll go to the grave with this."

Gwen sighed, nodding her agreement; she knew Bobbi could be trusted, and she may even have some advice too. "Well, I guess it all started one day when I was running late for work at Cid's Diner…"

Gwen had never told the story of her and Arthur's convoluted journey in entirety before, and she was surprised to hear how long and elaborate it was. Yet, she told Bobbi everything. She was met with large sparkling eyes which remained unmoved from her gaze as Bobbi continued to shovel shrimp and grits into her mouth, listening to each glorious word intently. Bobbi laughed at some parts, rolled her eyes at others, and let out more 'aww's in one sitting than Gwen had ever heard before. She was extremely vocal throughout the entire story, contributing things like:

"Y'all met at a diner? Shoot I never met me any good men when I worked as a waitress!—Damn, he does sound like a spoiled brat; you should've told him off then!—Lorenzo or Arthur…and you're sure you can't have both of 'em, girl?...Oh he_ left_…and he didn't say _anything_ to you, and you _still _haven't heard from him…well forget him then!—You know, if a guy gets drunk over you, it means he _really_ likes you: it's a compliment—Aww, he's so romantic, aint he? I always liked a man who knew how to show his soft side—Elliot acted like an animal; he should've had more sense than that. I'm ashamed of him."

And by the end, Bobbi Jones was completely convinced, and Arthur's advocate all the way. "Girl, I need to order _me_ an Arthur! Shoot, just get me the catalogue!" They both laughed hysterically at that comment.

But it was when Gwen was detailing Arthur's proposal the day before, that Bobbi absolutely lost all composure she had been struggling maintain. Gwen was bracing herself for her new friend to run laps around the kitchen or spring up in dance and song.

"Girl, he's _so _sweet…shoot, I don't care if he's white; you're so lucky. And all this time I thought he was a good-for-nothing-fast-talking whore and king of the rascals…no offense," Bobbi explained with a grin. "So race and all that stuff was never a problem for y'all? I mean if you look at it…you're like exact opposites."

"Only in appearance."

"But that's what counts out here."

"I mean—it was in issue in the beginning, and I'm sure it'll never totally go away. At first, when he expressed…interest, I thought he was just…" Gwen didn't even want to say it. "I thought he was just, curious. You know what I mean."

Bobbi let out a whistle. "I sure do, and suspicion aint always a bad thing, you know."

"But then we got to talking, and I realized that we had a _lot_ in common. And I was struck by how willing he was to listen to me, like he really cared what I had to say. Then I found myself opening up to him, telling things which I only told friends and then some things which I hadn't told anyone. And he never judged me, he just listened, and it's hard to find someone like that—colored or not. When I realized how attracted I was to him… I felt so ashamed, Bobbi…so dirty."

"Oh girlfriend, I understand. It's how you been raised; it aint your fault."

"And one day I realized that I was going to work because of Arthur: I would savor any glimpse I got of him, my heart would have to take an elevator back to my chest any time he looked at me with those deep blue eyes—oh, when Arthur looks at you, it's like he looks into your soul and you're the only person he cares about in that moment. It scared me at first, because I felt so naked and vulnerable, but now I see the passion behind his eyes, and I can tell how much he loves me. You only look at someone like that if you're in love."

Bobbi set her elbow on the table, resting her chin on her hand as she watched Gwen's smile widen with each word she used to describe Arthur. "Girl…you got it bad. What'd that white boy do to you?"

"He was just himself, it was enough. I wish people actually took the time to get to know him. But everyone is either too afraid, or they're trying to get to his wallet first. That's why until me, his only real friend was Merlin."

"When you talk about him Gwen, it sounds like poetry." There was a moment of silence for the first time in ten minutes at the small table, before Bobbi sat up straight with a sudden alertness. "Gwen, do you got the engagement ring with you now?"

"Yes!" Gwen said already standing from the table.

"Well what are you waiting for? I'm dying here: whip it out!"

Gwen walked to the couch where she had flung her jacket over the side. In the inner breast pocket, she kept her ring secure and she took it out and handed it to Bobbi who nearly snatched it from her grasp in excitement.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…" Bobbi gasped, looking down at the most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever held, or seen, for that matter. "It's stunning. You could buy you a new house with this! And them blue sapphires? Girl, he's got taste."

"I just wish I could wear it."

Bobbi begrudgingly gave the ring back to Gwen. "So what are y'all gonna do now? The law in the state forbids coloreds and whites from getting' married—you'll go to the slammer; it's happened before."

Gwen nodded sadly. "We know Bobbi, and we won't get married here, but we're just not sure yet. Remember what I told you about the lawyer?"

Bobbi nodded; she remembered. "But the sheriff can't lock y'all up for being engaged, can he?"

Gwen's eyebrows furrowed, for she never thought of the possibility. "I don't think so…marriage is different, I guess. But Arthur had a lunch set up for me at Merlin's house, and we talked for hours about all of this. He's so excited, it's like he forgets that our worlds are gonna come crashing down and people we don't even know will hate us. But he assured me that he doesn't care, that he'd turn his back to everything he has now if only it meant that me and him had a fight chance." Gwen looked away, casting her gaze to her feet, smiling as she blushed. "And I believe every word, and I'm with him a hundred percent. I think of Daddy; how sad his worn and tired face will be, and how our neighbors and church will whisper for months, but I gotta start living me own life, and I won't apologize for it. What Arthur and I have is beautiful and rare, and I'm not fixing to throw it away because of some cowards in white sheets, or gossiping church ladies in tweeds and big ol' hats."

Bobbi had tried to keep the tears at bay throughout Gwen's brief monologue, but as she reflected upon her powerful words, her fragile emotional shell broke and a single tear fell from each eye. "Sorry, don't mind me; I'm just a poor sucker for love stories. Just listening to how much he respects you—when every other man like him doesn't—it j-j-just gets to me," Bobbi wanted to kill herself for hiccupping, but she couldn't help it. She just wanted a small taste of what Gwen had, and she didn't care with whom.

Gwen blinked, watching Bobbi literally shed tears at her and Arthur's journey.

"I mean, it's the small things. From buying you some dumb book, to noticing what your shampoo smells like, and calling you 'Guinevere' because he thinks your name is as beautiful as you are."

Gwen began to become uncomfortable, as she wondered if perhaps she had unwittingly unleashed some of Bobbi's past demons. Her mind fumbled for the appropriate and consoling words to say in such a situation, but her mind was running slower than molasses.

"And the fact that he waited for you—he said he'd wait for you until marriage—" Bobbi's tears began to flow more freely at the last detail. "Nobody's ever cared about _me _that much," Bobbi whispered; it was her turn to cover her face now.

"Ahh, no no, don't do that," Gwen said gently, pulling one of Bobbi's hands back to the table, rubbing it affectionately.

Bobbi was thankful for the sweet, reassuring silence and Gwen's maternal presence as she sniffled a couple of times. "Look at me, I'm just a hot mess; a big ol' baby."

"Oh, it's alright…let it out."

Bobbi looked at Gwen through glassy eyes. "I'll help you Gwen, if y'all need help with anything just ask, okay?'

"Thanks Bobbi, you don't know how much that means to me. You're one of the few friends that I have."

Bobbi nodded. "Yeah, same here."

* * *

><p>Stella slammed down the ten-pound bag of flour on the countertop, causing a couple of her colleagues to jump back, and white particles to floutat about the air. The angry woman addressed the six maids she had gathered in the kitchen; the remaining few who had yet to hear her lecture she made sure to give the entire staff that day.<p>

"Now, if I hear another peep 'bout witchcraft or voodoo or any of that mess, you'll be scurrying outta here faster than a squirrel from a hound: am I clear?"

A harmony of "yes ma'am" resounded throughout the kitchen.

"Aint no one in this house is into the voodoo, so y'all have nothing to worry about. But I reckon that y'all have more sense than that fool girl Doris did. Hardly here a week and she's running with her tail between her legs because Marge got her all worked up, afraid that Morgana would put a hex on her," Stella said more to herself, still surprised that she was again searching for a new staff member because Marge had scared the last one away. Her life became me unbelievable each day. What next?

Five of the six maids snickered at the detail, but Gwen remained silent, only toying with her apron.

"Y'all, there aint nothin' funny 'bout none of this!" All laughter immediately ceased, and Stella had each woman's full attention yet again. "Mister Uther has come down on us, saying that he will publically make an example of anyone who makes more accusations, or approaches Ms. Morgana with this witchcraft nonsense. And I can't say that I blame him! But he doesn't know who scared the black off of Doris, so y'all need to keep Marge's name out of your mouths."

Each maid agreed that she wouldn't utter another word on the subject.

Stella looked about the room, gauging the reaction of each employee, before she was finally satisfied. "Y'all get gone and scatter; we gotta finish setting up for supper."

No one had to be told twice: the maids quickly dispersed, but Gwen hung back because she was on kitchen duty as usual.

"Marge and Alice: y'all come back in," Stella leaned into the hallway to call the two maids she had dismissed. Stella gave Marge one last look shaking her head. "You went too far this time Marge, too far."

Marge picked up a dish of mashed potatoes as she shrugged. "I didn't reckon it would be such a big deal, and I thought it made sense!"

"Well it sure made sense to Doris, seen as she was gone the next day."

"That aint my fault," Marge countered, walking into the dining room with Alice and Gwen close behind.

"Well whose fault is it then?" Gwen asked.

"Doris shouldn't have gone to Morgana, begging not to be cursed like a maniac. No, y'all can't put the blame on me for that!"

Alice leaned over to set down the bowl of rolls which had just come out of the kitchen. "I knew something was off with that girl the moment I met her—there was something shifty 'bout her—but I didn't know she was flat out crazy. I mean hell, you gotta be crazy to take anything Marge says seriously!" Alice cackled at her own joke.

"Hush y'all, I think I hear the family comin'," Gwen whispered quickly, and the other two maids quieted.

The three maids quickly turned to retreat back to the kitchen, when Alice placed a comforting hand on Gwen's shoulder. "Gwen girl, are you okay, sugar?" Alice looked at how Gwen was clutching her stomach with concern. Since the beginning of the week, Gwen had been having sporadic headaches and nausea, and had nearly thrown up yesterday. The poor girl needed a day off.

Gwen tried not to look as queasy as she felt. She was sure that she was coming down with some sort of bug, but she wasn't sure which. She tried her best not to complain, though. "Ah, thanks for askin'. But you know that headache I had earlier?"

Alice nodded; she remembered.

"I took some medicine for it, but I reckon it and my stomach aren't friends."

"Let me know if it gets worse, 'cause then I'm takin' you home."

"Yes ma'am I will. But I'm sure it'll pass."

Gwen staggered back into the kitchen, as the Pendragons and their two guests filed into the dining room.

"Oh, nonsense! Vivian, Merlin: you two are welcome here any night. It wouldn't be a proper dinner without you two; you're like family," Uther insisted as the four young people followed behind him, taking their respective places around the long table, and Uther at the head. "Besides, when I'm surrounded by you youngsters, I don't feel as old as I really am!"

Everyone gave a half-hearted laugh; the kind offered as a reflex to a joke which isn't all that funny, but it would be rude to do otherwise.

Slowly, Uther's gaze drifted to Arthur and Vivian, and it took all of Uther Pendragon's might not to grin at the sight: his plan was moving along swimmingly. As he encouraged Vivian to come to the Pendragon Estate more and more, the lovely girl had become a permanent fixture in the home. And slowly, but ever so surely, the contempt which Arthur held toward Vivian and their relative awkwardness had dissipated, and the two were actually able to hold a civil conversation with one another. Uther could even detect a genuine laugh or smile from time to time, and perhaps a look of longing for the other. He knew his persistence would pay off.

Former enemies—check. Acquaintances—ha! They had already dated; check. Friends—check. Engaged couple to be married…Uther was a patient man, and he knew he would be able to harvest the fruit of his virtue soon. He could already envision the two at the altar, the new home which he would build for them, the grandkids—a set of twins would be nice…

"Uncle?"

Uther snapped out of his daze to find Morgana waving her hand in front of his face to pull him out of his oblivion. He found four expectant and curious gazes glued upon him, and he noticed that all of the food had been set on the table. How long had he daydreamed?

"Arthur, why don't you lead the prayer over the food tonight?" Uther offered, quickly recovering.

"I never say it."

"There's a first for everything."

Everyone bowed their heads on cue, as Arthur said the simple and customary prayer of thanksgiving over the bounty of food. "Amen," each person said in harmony.

As the food was passed around, Morgana voiced an objection towards her uncle. "Uncle Uther, as long as I've lived at the Estate, not once have I said the blessing over the food."

"Well of course not, you're a witch; remember?" Arthur chuckled, picking up a roll from the center of the table. The opportunity was too ripe not to pick!

"Oh, ha ha, you're very funny," Morgana said with a scowl, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked towards Merlin who too laughed, but much quieter. "And I'm not a witch."

"Not according to the maids," Arthur said with a grin.

"Oh, that's sweet, gossiping with the maids now, are we? How enterprising."

"Well, at least they're not afraid to talk to me."

"But you wouldn't put a curse over their families Arthur, would you?" Merlin asked, joining in on the fun.

"I'd have to borrow some spells from Morgana first!" Arthur swatted Merlin on the shoulder, his eyes closing in laughter.

"Enough!" Morgana bellowed much louder than she intended. "Hearing the maid's mindless chatter is enough, but then coming from you two! God, who even listens to such foolish things!" Morgana Pendragon was a lot of things, but witch, voodoo priestess—whatever her half-witted staff claimed—was not one of them.

"Morgana dear, calm down," Uther said quietly. "They're just teasing, darling."

"I will not calm down! I'm being called a witch in my own home, and everyone thinks it's a big joke! Look at Merlin!" Morgana pointed across the table at Merlin who was trying his hardest not to laugh, but his tight grin and squinted eyes gave it away. "He can hardly contain himself! Is that what I am? A big gag for everyone to mock?"

"Darling, no one's saying—"

"You're right, they're just calling me a witch instead!"

"Morgana, if it aint true, don't let it get to you," Vivian offered her advice to the conversation.

"Vivian, was that supposed to be a tidbit of helpful advice?" Morgana snarled.

Vivian immediately recoiled at Morgana's words. "I was just tryin' to help."

"Well don't. And Arthur, I swear: if you keep laughing I'm gonna come over there and—"

"Morgana, that is enough!" Uther bellowed, pushing away from the table. "Young lady, I don't know exactly what has been wrong with you lately, but I surely suggest that you fix it—quickly. Now, I will not tolerate any more of this behavior. I assure you, Arthur and Merlin will behave like proper gentlemen for the rest of the meal." Uther scooted closer to the table, content in his diffusion of the situation as his combative niece too sat, and tried to go about eating.

There was a minute of awkward silence, where the only sound filling the grand dining hall were the clinking of fine china with heavy silver-ware, and the movement of crystal glasses filled with wine. There was some small talk. "The weather is mighty nice, today. Reckon it'll be a nice spring.—Nearly finished with your college credits? I'm proud.—Work is all the same."

The state of quietness resumed, until Uther spoke, precluding with a dignified clearing of his throat. "I spoke with former Councilman Henry Tate this morning," Uther stated nonchalantly, as if he were reporting the morning's weather or a mundane trip to the grocery store.

All four youngsters paused, looking up to Uther for further detail on the scorned and rejected councilman—they even stopped chewing.

"Don't quit eating on my account!" Uther said with a nervous laugh.

"Well, is it true that they're in Syracuse?" Vivian asked.

"Did she and Raymond finally run away together, like we all figured they would?" Arthur offered his question to the mix too.

"Rumor had it that they were gonna try and get hitched after they found out she was pregnant—good luck with that!" Morgana said with a snort.

"But did Mary Tate really get knocked up by that colored guy? All we heard were rumors," Merlin added his own question to the pile.

"Oh, everyone, let's have just a little more tact, shall we?"

"Well…is it true then, Uncle?" Morgana asked Uther who had continued to dodge their inquiries.

Uther wiped the corners of his mouth with his linen napkin, the obvious sign that he was uncomfortable. Why had he even broached the subject? He should've continued talking about the weather. "The Tates have settled down nicely on their estate in Syracuse. Mrs. Tate is involved with the country club up there and is having a blast. The former Councilman is helping the mayor, and plans to run for some sort of local office in a couple of years, but he's already making important acquaintances. Mr. Tate told me that Mary has used her spare time to tend the stables, and has taken up horse-riding, isn't that nice? And a nice young man—the mayor's son—is courting her, and they're both very happy. Mr. Tate reckons the boy will ask for Mary's hand in marriage before the month is up. Isn't that nice?" Uther was met with four blank stares., and he sighed. "There was no mention of a baby, and I assume…everything just fell into place. Everyone can move on. The end." Uther went back to his food, but he felt a knot in his stomach. Oh God, he really should've kept his mouth shut, and let the awkward silence continue. This was far worse, now there would be more questions…questions he wasn't willing to answer.

No one even blinked at Uther's report.

"Mary is…dating someone? A white fella?" Vivian asked hazily.

"No, Vivian, she's dating a Martian," Arthur snapped back with a roll of his eyes.

"But when she left, she was pregnant. Everyone knew it," Merlin said totally confused, returning to the main and most pressing question.

"Maybe she wasn't really. You know how rumors are…" Arthur tried to add a glimmer of hope to the ambiguous report.

"No, no, she was. I know for a fact," Vivian said without a second thought.

"Y'all, there are ways to…take care of these sort of things. Unwanted things…" Morgana said before chewing a bite of mashed potatoes. Everyone's eyes widened at her statement. "What? we're all thinking it, I just said it."

Uther felt like covering his eyes with one of his hands, so he wouldn't have to view the train wreck he had neglectfully created.

"Unwanted _things_?" Vivian asked, not liking where the conversation was turning.

Merlin took a sip of his wine, shaking his head. "Mary would never do that. Her family wouldn't let her."

"Oh, I'm sure her family would be all too glad," Arthur said with a scoff, taking a gulp of his own wine.

Vivian covered her mouth, looking around the table in horror. "Oh dear Lord, no! She could never—would never—but babies don't just up and disappear…" Vivian wrapped her arms around herself. "Oh sweet baby Jesus…I wish I never heard any of this…I don't want to hear no more!"

"Why do all of y'all sound so surprised? What would you do if you were stuck with a mulatto sucker, and you were from a prominent family? We're talkin' 'bout Mary Tate here: the beauty queen, the one who had fellas running in circles for her, who's daddy was on the city council, and mama ran the country club like a queen. She's not a piece of redneck white trash out in the country, where people don't care about these sorts of things. Anyhow, what would Mary Tate do with a half-breed baby?"

"Morgana, it aint no 'half breed'!" Vivian said, immediately disagreeing with her best friend. "And she would love the baby, that's what she would do, 'cause it was hers!"

Uther slinked farther into his seat, groaning as he did so.

"Maybe it was for the best," Morgana said in all seriousness. "I know it's terrible, but that baby wouldn't have had any kind of life. He would've had a bum for a daddy, and a mother who _might_ have loved him, and a family who hated him. There are reasons these sorts of things don't happen, and the sad thing is that the baby was a casualty of his parent's frivolous affair. Don't get me wrong, it's sad that such a thing had to be done, but then again: it had to."

Everyone around the table was too shocked to respond.

"Morgana's right, everyone," Uther said, finally finding his voice. "Sometimes, certain liberties have to be taken in extraordinary situations. Now everyone can finally move on with their lives, and forget about this terrible and unnecessary mess. Raymond has a fresh start up in Chicago, far away from Mary and her new beau, who she can really make a life with and then start a _real_ family. It's the proper order of things; this tawdry affair was just a hiccup. Yes, a terrible and ghastly hiccup which need not be repeated. Everyone can just…forget."

Arthur shook his head, swirling the wine in his glass with a grin. "Y'all two are really something else. No, people can't just _forget_, not normal healthy people, anyhow. And what you're saying is that colored people's lives are worth less than our own kind."

"No one is making that judgment, son. It's just…it's just—it's not how things are done." Uther stated loudly and clearly. "We have a certain way of conducting our society, making sure everyone is in their God given place. And when those lines are breached, mayhem like this erupts."

"I reckon I missed the memo when _you _were made God, Father, 'cause the way of 'doing things' was made by people like you."

"It's for the best. Mary's family wouldn't have been able to handle a mulatto baby. Their already tarnished reputation would have been totally destroyed. There is no room for a colored baby in that family, and that's just how things are. Colored belong with their own kind, and we ought to stick with our own as well. It's how things have been done since the beginning of time, and as far as I can see, it's gone pretty well."

"So we ought to do whatever it takes so we can go on being a superior unblemished race, is that it? Throw the baby out with the bath water?"

Everyone around the table physically cringed at the unintended pun.

"This never should have happened in the first place. Now everything is just _erased_," Uther tried to explain this to his son with calmness, but his anger was slowly mounting at each objection.

"Arthur, I fail to see the problem here," Morgana said shaking her head. "It was a necessary evil."

"But you wouldn't be saying that if the baby had been white; y'all would've been mortified. But now it's okay because the baby was a colored—mulatto—it's okay to get rid of them, because we don't want more of those 'half breeds' running around, isn't that right Morgana? Isn't that what you called it, a 'half breed', like it was some sort of mongrel?" Merlin asked, defending his friend, unable to remain silent for a moment longer.

Uther and Morgana physically winced at Merlin's sarcastic contribution. When had the Pendragon family dinners turned into all-out ideology debates versus the Northern Yankees and the Southern Dixies?

"Don't y'all dare put words into my mouth!" Morgana declared angrily. "I'm just trying to understand why you're so surprised. This sort of thing happens all the time; it's just that no one wants to talk about it."

Vivian looked down at her plate of food, her arms still wrapped around herself. "This all just makes me so sad."

Morgana looked at Vivian, who appeared to be on the brink of tears. "Well, the world can be a sad place."

Vivian looked around the room during the pause, and she realized that the room was waiting for her to speak. She looked down at her plate, solemnly shaking her head. "All of this madness erupting lately: people's houses getting burned down, men being dragged outta their homes in the middle of the night, people running up North and then killing their own kin…" A few tears fell from the brim of Vivian's eyelids, but she didn't bother to wipe them away as she kept her head bowed. "We can't even be human to one another anymore; is that the proper order of things Mr. Uther?"

Uther diverted his gaze from Vivian.

"I reckon dogs have more compassion than us on a good day. Arthur and Merlin are right…we aint God, and we could at least try and _understand_ one another. I'm not sayin' that we need to run into the streets, holding hands and singing 'Kumbaya' or nothin', but those streets don't got to be lined with blood, do they? We're supposed to be the master race, evolutionary superior in every realm to everyone, but we can hardly get along. What good evolution has done for us! And that's all I got to say."

Vivian's words quieted any fiery retorts or sarcastic wise-cracks which each remaining occupant was ready to blast, as they all looked at her as if she had eight heads. Never had they heard words so profound come from her, a girl whose conversations were either hysterical or superficial chit-chat about the latest fashion or the newest gossip. But she did always have a tender heart—a gentle soul—and no matter what type of fit she threw, or maneuvers she pulled to get her way, that could never be denied of her.

"Excuse me," Vivian said hardly above a whisper. "I don't feel too well, and I reckon I ought to get home." Vivian scooted away from the table and stood, grabbing her purse from behind her chair. Her eyes were turning pink, and she sniffled once, and no more. Nothing for dramatic effect, no frills, just candid emotion

As if on cue, the Pendragons and Merlin too stood, each expressing different levels of guilt on their ashen faces as Vivian promptly left the room. They each stood in silence, until they heard Vivian's car door shut, and Vivian tear out of the driveway like she was on a NASCAR race track down in Tuscaloosa.

Almost simultaneously Arthur and Morgana turned to one another, pointing and nearly yelling: "Are you happy now! What? It's not my fault—it's all yours!"

"You wrung her emotions like a wet dish cloth!" Morgana accused her cousin. "With all of your 'unblemished race' bullshit! No one even mentioned that until you opened your fat mouth!"

"My fat mouth? You're the one who wound her up with all of your 'half breed' and 'mulatto' talk! It aint my fault that she's a healthy human being with a heart," Arthur gave Morgana a disgusted once over. "Can't really say that much for you anymore."

Morgana took a step to her cousin. Had he not been physically larger and imposing, she was sure that she would've hit him in that very instant. "There's a difference between a bleeding heart, and a rational one!"

"Okay! Time out, enough!" Uther exclaimed, literally stepping in between the feuding cousins, and physically pushing them apart with his arms. Had he not known better, he would have expected blows. "This supper is finished. Both of y'all go to your rooms!"

Arthur took a step backward, holding up his hands. "I'm not staying here for another minute. Merlin, let's go."

Merlin looked mortified, as he felt Arthur nearly drag him out of the dining room. "Uhh, thank you for the dinner, Mr. Uther."

Uther turned to Morgana, but she had quickly spun around. "Save it Uncle, I'm _going_ to my room."

"No, you wait a second young lady; I'm not through with you!"

Morgana paused at the doorway separating the dining room from the hall, where she gave her Uncle a look over her shoulder daring him to follow her. He didn't.

Uther stood in the middle of the room, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he closed his eyes tightly. His family which he so cherished seemed to be quickly unwinding, split by Arthur's radicalism and Morgana's more traditional views. The Pendragons had their own personal and messy Civil War reenactment, with he and Morgana cast as the diehard Confederates fighting for tradition and proper social order. Arthur and Merlin the meddling and idealistic Yankees who couldn't mind their own business and leave well enough alone, and Vivian Remington starred as the border states; unsure which side their allegiance lay.

From the corner of his eye, Uther could see some of the maids lingering in the kitchen. No doubt they all heard and perhaps enjoyed the free "dinner and a show", and were too afraid to come out and face his wrath. "Y'all can come out and clean up now. We're all done." Uther retreated to his study, accompanied by his burning Kentucky bourbon, and Cuban cigars.

Morgana trudged up the steps, absolutely seething in anger. How had her Uncle remained so calm, as he heard all of the things his beloved son was spouting out; trying to make her look like the villian! She and her Uncle were the only sane ones left of the bunch, it seemed. And Vivian! What on earth was that…words of wisdom from the mouth of babes? Morgana wasn't sure, but she didn't like it. Merlin and Arthur were beginning to indoctrinate her, and she appeared to be buying it hook, line, and sinker. She always was too emotional.

She reached the top step, before Morgana's fuming rage was interrupted by the sound of sickness. She neared one of the guest bathrooms where it was clear that someone was vomiting, followed by bursts of coughing. Morgana neared the door which was slightly ajar, pushing it open with her foot. She found Gwen on her knees, huddled over the toilet bowl, in the process coughing up a lung. Morgana had noticed that the maid had been sick all week, but she hadn't paid that much attention to her today.

"Gwen, are you okay?" Morgana stepped into the bathroom, eyeing the maid with caution as if she were a rabid animal—she wanted to appear calm, but really she didn't know how to approach her.

Gwen quickly turned around, some curls falling from her loose bun. "Oh, Miss Morgana," Gwen paused, fearing that she was ready to project again. But nothing came up, so she sat down, flushing the toilet and wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry. Something is wrong with my stomach. I'm not too sure," Gwen said out of breath.

Morgana eyed Gwen suspiciously. Not once had she seen the maid sick before. Out of duty and politeness she asked: "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Gwen kept her eyes shut, and shook her head. "No, thank you."

"I reckon you want some privacy, don't you?"

Gwen nodded, even the slight movement aching her throbbing head.

"I hope you feel better," Morgana said already backing away. "Let me know if you want anything." Morgana cringed as she heard another coughing fit as she closed the door.

Morgana quickly retreated to her room where she spent about thirty minutes writing in her diary, and then another thirty going through her night time beauty regimen. The entire time she had an uneasy feeling. Gwen had progressively become sicker; Morgana would find her in the mornings sitting down because her head was aching, or explaining that she had a bad case of stomach cramps whenever Morgana bothered to ask. She pushed the thoughts to the periphery and fell asleep with the radio softly playing in the background.

_Morgana sat towards the back of the stuffy room, crossing her legs uncomfortably as she looked around at the decorations. Tacky and colorful streamers hung from the wall, and there was a table overflowing with equally colorfully wrapped gifts. To the left of that was a buffet table with finger food, where a couple of people stood, happily munching away._

"_I'm next!"_

_Morgana quickly turned and the excited outburst. Vivian?_

"_I want the new mama-to-be to open my present next," the blonde nearly bounced up from her seat, carrying a large box with a blue bow wrapped around it. She walked through a row of chairs until she reached Gwen, who sat in a chair in a long purple dress. Her stomach was large with motherhood, and Arthur sat so close to her, Morgana felt like she should move them apart so not to scandalize some of the children she saw scampering about the festive room._

"_Oh Vivian dear, you've given us so much already! We couldn't possibly take anything else," Gwen said, eyeing the box thrust in her direction._

"_Well, it aint for y'all!" Vivian said with a laugh. "It's for the twins, and seen as I don't know which I'm the godmother of yet, I figured I'd just get a little somethin' for the both of them."_

_Arthur took the gift on behalf of his wife. "Thanks Viv," he stood up, giving her a kiss on the cheek, and she patted him on the back in return._

"_Well go on y'all, don't be shy. I saw it in the store, and I said to myself: 'Won't that just be darlin' on them twins?' Right then I knew it'd be the perfect gift for the baby shower!" Vivian was absolutely beside herself with glee._

_Gwen blushed as she took the wrapped box from Arthur, turning it over in inspection. It was quite large. _

_One moment Morgana was watching a radiant Gwen and proud Arthur joyfully opening a gift meant for their children in a room full of smiling faces, when a sort of vertigo overtook Morgana and her eyes closed shut to try and stop the effects of the spinning room. When she felt it stop, she slowly opened her eyes, and found that her surroundings had completely changed. This room was not warm and crowded, but dank and barren, and the only source of light came from a single window, carved out of the stone walls._

"_Hello?" Morgana asked quietly into the darkness. She stood, when she felt the tug of cast-iron chains against her wrist, rubbing her raw each time she moved. "Hello!" She screamed hysterically this time. She looked around, and realized she was in a small stone room with concrete flooring, lined with hay which was turning black with filth. She screamed as she saw a rat scurry before her, causing her to run her back into the stone-cobbled wall. She was undoubtedly in a dungeon; a small, dark, and stinking cell. "Uncle Uther?" Morgana called out in vain, standing to try and project her voice more, but the chains created more sores as she moved. " Arthur? Please, any one! Why am I here?"_

Morgana sprung up with a start, her heart threatening to beat a hole through her rapidly moving chest as her light eyes darted about the dark, frantically looking for nothing in particular, as she put a hand to her forehead—she was drenched in sweat. She tried to control her breathing, rationalizing with herself as she threw her thick hair from her shoulders.

"It was just a dream, it doesn't mean anything." But then a tiny voice at the back of her head, a subconscious Morgana was trying so hard to squelch said: "But you have the gift of prophecy. Your dreams are always warnings, or foretelling the future. You have a gift."

Morgana stayed like that, sitting up ramrod straight in her bed, her chest moving a mile a minute, before she was able to calm down slightly. She slinked off of the bed, making her way to the dark bathroom.

Perhaps all this talk of babies was going to her head, and it so disturbed her that it transferred to her subconscious dream state. Morgana took this as a possibility, but as she splashed her face with cold water, a sinking feeling overtook her, causing her gut to drop like a block of concrete.

"I knew it was only a matter of time. Isn't this how it always ends with people like them? The girl gets pregnant to keep the guy, and he still takes off." Morgana put a hand on her wet forehead, fearing that she was about to swoon. "I'm surprised she didn't get pregnant sooner. I'm such an idiot, I should've know—she's had all the signs of morning sickness!" Morgana had taken an anatomy class last year, and knew that 'morning' sickness symptoms could really occur any time of the day.

Morgana began pacing her bathroom, speaking expressively with her hands as well as out loud. "Why couldn't Arthur just stick to his own? Now look! There was no evidence before; everything could've been wiped clean!" Morgana wasn't aware of the magnitude of her vibrating rage until she found herself picking up a soap-holder and throwing it across the room, relishing as it shattered into innumerable pieces. Just like her life was about to. "Syracuse, here we come!"

"No!" Morgana declared, looking at her reflection in the mirror. "I'm not gonna let some nigger baby ruin my life," she said trying to thwart the heart attack she felt approaching fast. "A bastard child will destroy our reputation…I bet this is what Gwen has waited for, something to secure Arthur and his money—an anchor baby. Oh God, they make me sick," Morgana felt like she would hurl at any moment. "Well, I'll be damned before that happens."

Morgana stood straight, looking into the mirror at her own reflection with a vengeance.

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><p><strong>AN:** Long chapter (not very many scenes, but boy, were they long!) to make up for my absence. Hope you all liked! Can't wait for next week's!


	37. Chapter 37

_Wow…so it's been a month, hasn't it? I know that's really long for me in between updates, but after you read this chapter, I think you'll understand why. Not only did I take special care with this addition, but as the summer wanes I become busier. So, I hope you all enjoy 37, and I hate to break it to you, but if all goes as planned, there will be two more chapters after this. Please let me know what you think about this chapter over in reviews, and don't forget to spread the word about_ #MLMS.

_Thank you for your loyal readership. I really do appreciate all of the PMs sent to me asking about updates; they're not annoying but quite sweet. I hope this was worth the wait (and it's the longest chapter ever)!_

_YoureAnIllusion_

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><p><strong>Chapter 37: In the House, In a Heartbeat<strong>

Morgana took a drink from her tall strawberry milkshake, looking over the brim of the thick glass at Vivian who sat across from her, merely pushing her french-fries about her plate of untouched food. All evening Vivian had been a blonde brick wall; her minimal responses and stoic expressions were nearly pushing the already irritable Morgana over the edge. Vivian didn't even leap at the opportunity to speculate on the latest gossip floating through campus and the town. That's when Morgana knew that something was wrong, and Vivian's passive aggressive nature usually caused her to bottle things up, while making people walk on egg shells in the process.

"Are you fixing to mope the entire evening, or are you gonna say what's wrong?" Morgana pointed to Vivian's picked over fries. "Or are you on a new diet?"

Vivian offered neither a polite conciliatory laugh nor a fake smile. She just looked at Morgana, settling for a blank stare.

"Lord have mercy," Morgana gasped in frustration, throwing a fry back down to her plate. "Vivian, do I have to interrogate—"

"I aint in the mood for talkin', honestly. Can't we leave it at that?"

"Well why did you decide to come out?"

"You insisted."

"No I didn't."

"You sure did."

"No I did—Fine," Morgana said with a shrug. "I'm not fixin' to argue. If you don't wanna talk, then I'm okay with eating in silence."

"So what, you don't have any new rants to deliver tonight? 'Cause that's usually what these dinners—business meetings are."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just waiting for your next speech on the dangers of race mixing, or family honor or somethin'," Vivian drawled as she rolled her light eyes. "Spare me please, 'cause I done heard all of it."

Morgana folded her arms over her chest, as her voice became cold and direct. "I hate it when people beat around the bush, so why don't you just spit it out?"

"I aint got anything more to say," Vivian retreated, returning her attention to her food.

"So, Arthur and Merlin have got you too, huh? You're their newest little convert?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout."

"I've seen the way you've been these last few weeks. You're beginning to sound just like them. And that other night at dinner—what the hell was that Vivian?" It was the first time either of them had mentioned that explosive dinner when the subject of Mary Tate's baby fueled the deeply divided debate. Morgana thought it best to leave it alone, until now.

"Maybe being like 'em aint so bad after all."

"Oh, I'm going to_ love _listening to this."

"Well, I've been doing some serious thinkin'—" Vivian paused as Morgana let out a nasty snort; she could be so condescending at times. "And I don't think what we're doing is right anymore. They aint hurting no one and quite frankly, I think you've blown all of this out of proportion. You took hold of my emotions, and…and…I wasn't thinking. I was so blind with rage that I just hated 'cause it was the easiest thing to do."

"You're letting your feelings get the best of you again."

"Except they're right this time."

"No they're not."

Vivian took a deep breath, wondering how best to explain. "When I agreed to this little…mission, I had the wrong intentions, Morgana. I had been obsessing over Arthur, and it wasn't healthy. Doing all of this was my attempt to get him back, to make sure he only had eyes for me. But…I see that aint gonna work. It's like I'm watching him: in love and loving life, and I'm here wasting my own trying to destroy his."

"So I should sit back and let him ruin my life, have my family's name dragged through the mud over some colored maid?" Morgana snorted again, pushing some hair out of her face. "I don't think so."

"Why don't you save that sorry rhetoric: I've heard it a million times, and it's a load of crap."

Morgana sat up straighter, laying her hands on the table. "Your change of heart hasn't only made you weak, but foolish as well. The reason you can't understand, the reason you _never _have is because you're selfish," Morgana rolled her eyes at Vivian's offended gasp. "You only think about yourself and you only care about _what _you get, _who _you have. That's why you agreed to help me in the first place, don't lie to yourself and make it sound pretty."

"Don't make this 'bout me!"

"You made this about you the moment you decided you were better than me."

"Quit puttin' words into my mouth," Vivian growled. "Maybe this whole thing started 'cause of family honor, and I can respect that, really I can. I'd do anything to protect my family from scandal too. Tryin' to keep your family name clean—that's admirable." Vivian leaned in searching Morgana's eyes, and Morgana drew back. "But somewhere along the road…those tired lines about protecting your family became just that—lines. I reckon you don't even believe 'em anymore."

"Of course I do," Morgana said too quickly.

"You're like one of them draw-string dolls which you pull and they only say but three things. That's been you: spouting the same bologna."

Morgana could feel her nails scraping against the table as her hands formed into a tight fist.

"And God forgive me for saying such an ugly thing, but tarnation! It seems like you _enjoy_ all of this now. You relish picking apart Arthur and—"

"We're in a public place!" Morgana snapped. She looked down at her hands, and saw that they were literally trembling, turning white because they were clenched so hard. She dropped them into her lap like a dead weight. "And I do not _enjoy _it! I'm not some sorta psycopath."

"Morgana, I just don't feel that this is right any more. By golly, if they get caught it'll be terrible, but it's not my job to use 'em like puppets. Something aint right 'bout all of this, and you know it. Deep down in your soul, you know this aint a good thing."

Morgana felt a grin spreading on her lipstick red lips, as she shook her head at the pitiful girl who she had wasted all of this time with. "You have no fucking idea."

Vivian wasn't as disturbed by Morgana's profanity, as she was by her eerie smile. "What are you smilin' for? Quit it!"

"Things aren't so simple any more, Viv." Morgana wondered if Vivian's feeble and hysterical pea-brain would be able to fathom the consequences of Morgana's new revelation.

"And why not?"

"Gwen's pregnant."

Vivian blinked a few times, before turning her head to the side and giving Morgana time to recount her statement. "No she aint."

"It's like the whole 'Mary and Ray' situation. Exactly what I didn't want. So are you happy? I failed."

Vivian covered her open mouth, shaking her head in refusal. "It can't be…"

"And why the hell not? They been going at it for the longest time—"

"Oh, don't be crass!"

"And it's a miracle that it hasn't happened sooner."

"And you know for sure? You overheard her telling another maid or somethin'?"

Morgana nodded grimly. "I saw it in a dream."

"Say what? You…saw it in a dream?"

"I know; I was just as freaked out."

Vivian sat quietly for a moment, before shooting her hand in the air. "Excuse me: waiter! Check please, _now_!"

Morgana's eyes grew wide as she watched Vivian throw her jacket over her arm, standing as she rummaged through her wallet before setting two dollars on the table.

"That ought to cover the food."

"Vivian, where do you think you're going?" Morgana reached out to grab her by the arm, pulling the girl towards her.

Vivian pushed Morgana's cold hands off of her bare arms. "Get off of me! You must be deranged!"

Morgana looked around the diner, at a couple of people who looked their way with disapproving or amused glares. "Vivian, sit down," Morgana growled. "I'll explain!"

Vivian looked nervously about the diner, and decided to finally sit as the waiter came by with their check. She snatched the thin paper, looking at the bill as she spoke to Morgana. "There's nothing to explain. Except the fact that you reckon somebody's pregnant 'cause you had a_ dream_? You know that you sound like a loon, right?"

"If you would hold on the frenzy for a minute, then maybe I could finish."

Vivian tapped her nails against the table. "Right, go on with it then. So what? Did your crystal ball tell you that it's going to be a boy?"

Morgana ignored the obvious sarcasm. "This past week, Gwen has been sick."

"You gotta do better than _that_. There's probably a spring bug goin' 'round like there always is."

"She's had every single sign of morning sickness. We were in anatomy class together, remember? I think you can take my word on that. It's so obvious."

"So, even if you didn't have that dream, you'd still reckon she's pregnant?"

"I'm as positive as I can be without asking her flat out."

Vivian leaned back in her chair, rubbing her forehead as she groaned. "This isn't good. This might literally be the worst news I've ever heard."

"That's all you have to say?"

Vivian's eyes snapped open. "Well what the hell am I supposed to say, Morgana? This is terrible, because now…now—jeez, I don't know!"

"Now everything is going to hell in a hand basket?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly put it that way. But things are gonna get messy now, oh God, this is terrible!"

Morgana took another sip from her milkshake, before she noticed Vivian staring at her through narrowed eyes. "What?"

"What do you plan on doing 'bout this…? Do I even wanna know?"

"I have a couple of ideas. But I don't wanna do either one."

"So now a cat's got your tongue? That's all you got to say?" Vivian was quickly losing her patience.

"Arthur's not ready to be a father, and least of all with Gwen."

"Granted…"

"So, either the baby or the mother will have to be taken care of. Simple as that."

Vivian leaned in closer, bringing her voice down to a whisper. "You aint gonna hurt Gwen, are you? You can't hurt pregnant women, unless you've lost all—"

Morgana cut Vivian off and replied with such a calculated coldness, that her voice didn't sound familiar to her own ears. "Gwen either gets an abortion, or she leaves town. We'll be fair, and let her choose."

Vivian didn't realize that her chest was moving faster, and that her hands were becoming warm with sweat. "Oh, how merciful of you! You'll let her choose which way to destroy her life?"

"This is her and Arthur's fault, and I'm not fixin' to be dragged down with 'em. So yeah, she does have to pick her poison."

"Morgana, I think you overestimate your power. What makes you think that Gwen won't throw those options right back in your face?"

Morgana calmly folded her hands in contentment. "Oh, she'll choose, alright. Uncle Uther has a way of being very…persuasive."

"Morgana…"

"You're right, I have overestimated my power; a long time ago when I decided not to tell Uncle, but it's too late now. He'll take care of this. With a snap of his fingers this will all be settled."

"Do you realize what this means Morgana? Lord have mercy, you're fixin' to destroy this girl's life, and maybe Arthur's!"

"They did that themselves. This situation needs to be taken care of before she begins to show."

Vivian stood again, snatching her coat off of the chair. "I can't let you do this Morgana. This all has gone _too_ far! It was never supposed to end up this way."

"And how do you figure you're gonna stop me? Cry some more? Give another speech about 'love' and 'understanding one another'? 'Cause I _really_ enjoyed that last one, _brava_ Vivian."

"I'll…I'll…" Vivian's voice drifted off as she realized there wasn't much she could do. "You used to be friends with Gwen," she said with a sigh.

Morgana too stood, feeling in her pockets for loose change. "Yeah, just like us." Morgana turned to make sure that she had eye contact with Vivian. "Don't show up to the estate any more unless you're invited and even then stay far away from me. I'm through with you, are we clear?"

Vivian didn't plead, or try to reason with Morgana, because even though this was a slap to the face it was for the best. "Yeah, we're clear. Your company is lethal, and I'm better off without you."

"Well, I'm glad that's mutual then," Morgana said with a cackle. She gave Vivian a disgusted once over, before adding. "Gwen will be in the job market this time tomorrow. I heard you were hiring."

Vivian opened her mouth to voice a reply, but Morgana coolly spun on her heels, leaving the diner without even looking back.

* * *

><p>Gwen closed her eyes in annoyance as Arthur flipped his hand over so his palm rested on her forehead. "Arthur, I said I feel fine. For the millionth time: I don't have a fever."<p>

"I don't believe you. You'll say anything so I won't worry."

Gwen swiftly reached for Arthur's hand moving to her cheek. "See? I'm not hot anywhere; no fever! I feel fine Arthur, I promise I'm not lying."

"You've been sick all week." He put his hands on her shoulder, looking deep into her eyes to see how red they were, or if her pupils were of normal size.

"Arthur! Would you quit it? I'm not as fragile as you think."

"You're just so busy; you neglect to take care of yourself."

"I went to the pharmacist, the _trained _official and she gave me medicine, and I feel just dandy." Gwen looked down at her watch. "Hey, I thought we couldn't be late for this meeting?"

Arthur quickly looked down at his own watch, before yanking his key's out of the car's ignition. "Shit, we gotta step on it."

"Oh Arthur, I think I'm too fragile to even open my own door," Gwen said dramatically, only to have Arthur run to the other side of the car and open her door.

"Come on. Gaius Wilson—"

" 'Doesn't wait on anyone': you've only told me a hundred times today." Gwen was nearly dragged by her frazzled fiancé to Father Soma's rectory and living quarters. "Are you sure _you're_ not the sick one? Your hand is burning up like a fire."

"Nerves, I guess."

"Nerves, for what? I'm on display: the one up for the judgment, aren't I?"

"No one's here to judge you."

"But they will."

"Be yourself and they'll love you. It's as simple as that. Anyhow, their minds are already made up about you."

Gwen swallowed, before nodding her agreement. "So does this mean this is the beginning of the end, Arthur?"

Arthur stopped abruptly, nearly causing a collision with Gwen. "What? It's the…beginning of the beginning."

Gwen pushed some hair behind her ear which was flying in the wind. "I mean, after this meeting—we'll know where we're going. It's 'bye bye' to Southern USA and hello to…God only knows where. There's no turning back after this."

Arthur tried to think of comforting words to say, to try and take away the bite of finality the meeting held, but he had none. "You're right Guinevere, you're so right."

She and Arthur took the few final steps necessary, and were standing before the front door of the two-story home where Father Soma lived with a couple of other priests.

Arthur gave Gwen one last look, before knocking on the solid wood door, and took a step back to wait for Father Franco's answer. He smiled when he felt Gwen's hand wrap around his own and he gave her a tight reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry," he whispered. She responded with a nod.

Father Franco appeared, just taking off his reading glasses as he opened the door, and immediately he turned his gaze to Gwen. "Guinevere what a pleasure," he said with a warm smile. He offered his hand out for a shake, but the girl remained frightened and frozen in place. "Don't be shy, dear," he said reaching for her hand and giving it a shake.

Gwen looked to Arthur, who hung back and watched the interaction.

"You can call me Gwen; no one really calls me Guinevere except for Arthur."

"Well, 'Gwen' it is—I wouldn't want to steal Arthur's pet name." Father Franco took a step backward. "You are very beautiful and soft spoken," he said stepping aside to let the young couple into his home.

"Oh, thank you, Father."

Arthur stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and circling an arm around Gwen's waist. "Where's Mr. Wilson?"

"Oh, Gaius phoned about five minutes ago, saying he'd run fifteen minutes late. But that's good, it gives us some time to catch up," the priest explained as he walked down the corridor and towards his office. "Gwen, I've wanted to meet you for some time. Arthur has told me so much about you, all good things of course."

"I hope he didn't exaggerate too much," Gwen said taking a seat on the small leather couch with Arthur joining her. "Thank you so much for helping us Father Soma, we really appreciate it."

The priest sat in a chair across from the couple, crossing his legs and clasping his hands. "I'm only doing the right thing. Besides, I could never turn Arthur away. And when he came to see me, the way he spoke—I knew he was a changed man, and I just had to meet this woman he raved on and on about. So, tell me a little about yourself. Have you lived in Dearborn your entire life?"

Gwen answered each of Father Franco's questions with ease, and she found that not only was he charming and witty, but friendly and understanding as well. She knew why Arthur had placed so much trust in one man. As Gwen detailed her time at Cid's Diner, and how she met Arthur, a loud knock rapped against the front door and the priest immediately stood.

"That must be Gaius. I'll bring him right in!"

Arthur turned to Gwen the moment Father Franco left the room and rubbed her knee affectionately. "You don't seem so nervous anymore…" he teased.

"He's very nice and funny too."

"Yeah, Father's a good guy."

"Now I have to meet Mr. Wilson…they way you go on about him, I feel like I'm meeting the Pope!"

"He looks cranky and mean, but it's just 'cause he's old."

Gwen covered her mouth as she giggled, before swatting Arthur on the arm. "Arthur!"

"It's true! But he's a good guy too."

"Oh Father Franco, it looks like we're interrupting something here," Gaius playfully teased, making his presence known as he sauntered into the room toting his signature brown briefcase.

"Gaius, thanks so much for coming out to meet us," Arthur stood and helped Gwen from the couch. "This is Guinevere Gibson, my fiancée."

Gaius raised a silver brow. "Oh, fiancée?"

Gwen shook the old man's hand. "Yes sir, it's an honor to meet you Mr. Wilson."

"An honor? I quite like the sound of that," Gaius said with a bright smile. "It's nice to meet the little lady whose caused such a stir. But I'm happy to work on anything besides business mergers and lawsuits. I'm doing everything I can to aid in the future marital bliss."

All four parties sat, with Gaius and Father Soma sitting on two overstuffed chairs, and the young couple retaking their comfortable seats on the couch.

Arthur rubbed his hands together, his anxiousness practically seeping through his pores. "Okay Gaius, I can't wait any longer. What do I—we have? We do have at least a little something, right? I aint askin' for a mansion on a hill, but…I want us to be secure."

"It'll be tough out there for the two of you," Gaius said crossing his legs and opening his briefcase. "But, you'll have my help."

"And my prayers," Father Franco added.

"So, how do y'all feel about Australia?"

"Australia!" Arthur and Gwen exclaimed simultaneously, causing the old man to laugh.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist! Forgive me, I'm a terrible old curmudgeon who needs a good laugh every now and again. Rather, how does New Mexico sound?"

"It's dry desert, and aint nothing there but cacti and tumbleweed," Arthur replied.

"Well I reckon you'll find a liking to them tumbleweeds very quickly, son. The only option I see for you two—to be able to be married and own property is in that 'dry desert' state."

Arthur's eyes narrowed, as his head turned in skepticism. "That's on the other side of the country."

"Uhhmm…exactly," Father Franco added.

"We reckoned we'd have to move up north?" Gwen asked.

"Well, Miss Guinevere you two _can _but to where would you go?"

Silence.

"Arthur, your mother has left you a multitude of properties, all about the country. And she must've known that you would elope with a colored woman sometime because you have the perfect property in New Mexico."

"She did?"

"Technically it's been yours since you turned twenty-one last year, but the ranch has been run by hired hands all these years. Honestly Uther should've told you, but it seems he has kept many things secret."

"So what? Is it one of them adobe houses or something?"

"Quite the opposite…it's a horse ranch."

Arthur ran his hand through his hair, leaning back on the couch. "A ranch?" This wasn't at all what he had in mind—not that he had anything against ranches.

"A very large one in fact; eight hundred acres."

"Eight _hundred_?"

"Yes ma'am, you heard right. Now, let me explain why I'd place all my bets on the state of New Mexico."

Arthur leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "We're listening."

"Now, it's no surprise that your mother's family left her some property, and then she accumulated some of her own with the marriage. But the bad news is that all of the ones left to you are in the south—the Deep South to be particular. We're talking Alabama, Mississippi, and sprinkled a bit in Arkansas."

"We'd be run out of any town in any of those states."

"Precisely. I'm positive there would be a hooded lynch mob awaiting your arrival. Going to those places are not only impractical, but illegal. The law will come after y'all—thrown into jail you'd be."

"Come after us for what? What charges could they possible press?"

"You'd be breaking the state's anti-miscegenation laws: barring the different races from marriage. There are even documented cases of couples getting legally married up North in the states which don't have those laws, but when they come back down South, they're arrested. I don't want that to happen to you two."

"And neither do we."

"So, not only is this ranch in New Mexico the only option but you're quite lucky. It's in a small town where I doubt any one will give you real trouble. Not to mention, you two can legally marry there and that property is a hundred percent _yours_. Uther Pendragon cannot lay a finger on it, though he'll try. There's no cattle, but they're horses."

"My mom loved horses," Arthur said with a smile.

"Well, I'm sure she loved this ranch. And all of the legal business was automatically sorted on you twenty-first birthday. It's a win-win Arthur; everything has been lined up perfectly. This was meant to be. Literally, I've seen nothing like this before."

Father Franco burst out with a loud clap of his hands. "Thanks be to God! You see? No obstacle is too great for Him!"

"What do you reckon Guinevere?" Arthur asked grabbing Gwen's hand with a nervous smile.

"What do_ you_ reckon?"

"I figure the tumbleweeds won't bother me too much after a while," Arthur said with a grin.

"I figure I'll like that privacy."

"A little kingdom of our own, just like we dreamed of."

"It's so far away, but maybe the further the better."

Arthur waited a few moments, his eyes searching Gwen's for any sign of hesitance or fear. He found none, just love and anticipation, and his own blue eyes reflected the same. He turned to Gaius quickly. "Alright."

The priest beamed as he watched his old friend and confidant lean over to hand the young couple a packet of papers.

"There are some details on the ranch."

Gwen leaned over, to look at the papers on Arthurs lap. "Hmm, 'Camelot Hills Ranch'? That has a nice ring to it."

Arthur looked to Gwen. "Camelot Hills…I kinda like it; it's not cheesy."

"No, not at all."

The four conspirators spent another hour in that meeting, totally devoted to Arthur and Gwen's future. The other three properties left to Arthur which were in the Deep South would be sold, and Arthur would use that revenue to help support his future family. Arthur and Gwen left the meeting nearly skipping to Arthur's car, yet one question still remained: how would they delicately break their engagement to their respective families? They couldn't avoid the subject for much longer, but that evening, things were just too perfect.

* * *

><p>Uther reclined in his chair, swirling his amber-colored Kentucky bourbon in his crystal tumbler, taking a sip of the bitter liquid as he glanced at the multitude of papers on his desk. He grumbled as he realized there was at least another four hours of work sorting through them, and such a medial task was a waste of his valuable time. He wasn't even sure why he brought the documents from his office in the first place.<p>

"I'll get someone else to do this. One of my legal aides can waste their time," Uther said brushed off the work, which he should've done an hour ago. "Today is a good day for a horse ride, or a nice stroll around the grounds. Perhaps Morgana will take a break from her studies and join me." Uther carried on his one-sided conversation for a little while longer, before deciding on a nice relaxing walk around his estate. As he stood, a loud knock rang against his office door catching him a little by surprise.

"Uncle Uther, it's me."

Uther immediately smiled at the sound of his beloved niece's voice. "Come in, darling. Morgana, where have you been hiding all day?" Uther asked with a grin, the crow's feet around his eyes moving upward in delight.

Morgana walked in silently, taking care to shut the door behind her. "Uncle, I would like only a moment of your time, if you're not too busy."

"Is something the matter?"

Morgana hugged a bunch of unbound paper against her chest, eyeing her uncle nervously. "I reckon you ought to sit down, Uncle."

"I'd rather stand for whatever it is you have to tell me…if it's serios…" his eyes traveled to the papers, "or show me."

Morgana silently outstretched her arm, and Uther reluctantly accepted the offering.

"What's this? A bundle of letters?"

"Uncle," Morgana began by putting a hand over her heart. "I am the first to blame for keeping this away from you for so long."

Uther gave one last look at his niece, before gingerly taking the first page, touching it with such caution that an observer would conclude that he was flipping a hot pancake.

"They're my diary entries."

Uther walked behind his desk to take a seat, silently reading a page to himself, and setting the rest aside. "Diary entries…so I see. But whatever for?"

"I can't even bring myself to say it out loud it's so terrible. This is the only way I know how to tell you."

Uther was silent for what seemed like an eternity before he calmly cleared his throat, and addressed his fidgeting niece. "Morgana… you're going to have to explain yourself, 'fore I die of cardiac arrest. What is the meaning of all of this?"

Morgana took all the air her lungs could hold: this was the moment she had been anticipating since she had made up her mind on the necessary action. She had played the occasion over and over in her head, but none of them resembled the present reality. She never thought she'd be this terrified to reveal to Uther the thing that had been eating away at her for months. Shouldn't she feel a sense of relief?

"Arthur, your son, has been having a _thing_ with one of the maids—Gwen Gibson is her name. She's the pretty light-skinned one, with the curly brown hair and…" Morgana figured that description would be sufficient.

"By 'thing' you mean…"

"A sexual affair," Morgana blurted out as if she had been holding her breath.

Uther reclined in his chair, crossing his legs and tapping his fingers against his thighs. He nodded in thought as he ruminated on the words for a bit. "Let's say you're not mistaken: hypothetically, how long has it been? A couple of weeks?"

"Since summer—hypothetically…"

"Since s-s-summer?" Uther literally choked on the two words. "Summer?" he croaked again. Uther swiftly but controllably pushed Morgana's diary pages to the opposite side of the desk, as a rumbling laugh came from his belly which filled the large room.

"Am I being unclear, Uncle?"

Uther wiped his forehead, letting out a sigh which came from being winded. "I always knew you had a great imagination, but this!" Uther motioned towards the paper with his index finger. "This! Is it some sort of joke between the two of you—between you and Arthur?"

"That would be some sick joke! And you shouldn't be laughing because this is bad Uncle Uther, really _really _bad."

Uther began to giggle, taking one of the pages as he began to read out loud in an obvious mocking tone. "Oh look, this one's from a couple weeks ago! 'I went to see that priest Arthur is so fond of, Father Franco. I found out that he's just like Arthur; a sympathizer. The delusional priest gave me a whole lesson on how everyone was made in the likeness of God and there's nothing wrong with whites being with coloreds if they were in love because true sacrificing love is a gift from above… or something like that. It made me sick to hear and I knew this crazed foreigner was filling Arthur with all of his impractical romantic notions.' " As Uther continued to read he began to slowly frown. He knew the priest from Arthur's childhood, but he was unaware that his son had reestablished contact with the cleric.

Morgana thought it best to remain silent as she saw the wheels in Uther's mind begin to turn, grinding out a bitter realization. He began to read another entry aloud, this one from months ago.

" 'I parked my car, only to find the two lovebirds sneaking out of the house by way of the darkened patio. Needless to say, I followed them. Our little Casanova made it too easy, with his flashlight and their nervous whispering leading the way. Well, Arthur took her to the pond, and I must admit the set up was quite romantic.' " Uther sloppily shuffled through more pages for further reading material. " 'Arthur and Gwen got in a great—big fight today: it looks like there is a love triangle in the mix of things. Figures; isn't there always? Arthur forgot his jealousy and begged at Gwen's feet like the lovesick dog he has become. It was like a scene out of a movie: Gwen was crying and Arthur pleading and apologizing. But she still left, and Arthur was devastated. I almost felt sorry for the two, before I remembered that it was Arthur who put himself in this situation, putting so much of his worth and happiness in a woman. With a maid no less. The look on Merlin's face as he listened to the argument from the hall was completely—' Merlin? What on earth does Merlin have to do with all of this?"

Morgana winced, unsure of whether or not she wanted to inform Uther of Merlin's vital involvement. It seemed that she had no choice now. "Merlin knows about all of this too. He's helped 'em Uncle, if you can believe it. He's been an accomplice to help pull this entire disgrace off."

Uther put the page he had been reading down before him. "I can't believe this…"

"Why would I lie? Uncle, think about it! Arthur's gone at all hours of the night and at the weekends we hardly see him! And when's the last time you heard he was going out for a date, huh?" Morgana paused for the answer she knew couldn't be offered. "Exactly. You're trying to tell me that for the past year, Arthur hasn't seen _any _one?"

"That doesn't mean he's having an illicit affair with one of our maids." Uther could hear his own voice waiver and the reality scared him. "Arthur has better judgment than to do such a foolish thing."

"Judgment? Judgment! Alright Uncle, think on this: last summer Arthur took on three of his best friends because they were teasing a colored. An all out street fight over a maid! When Ray Neely's house was burnt down, Arthur ran outta here like a bat outta hell, and guess who lives in that neighborhood—directly across the street from Ray?"

"No…" Uther looked as if he had seen a frightening image, and perhaps in his mind's eye he had.

"Yes!" Morgana was reeling him in. "Lately we haven't even been able to recognize Arthur. With his new 'kumbaya' attitude and 'let's treat coloreds as our equals'. Where do you think all of this came from? And lastly, do you think that I just sat down one day and decided to fabricate all of those diary entries? That I forged 'em _all_? No! I've been observing Arthur and Gwen and there's the cold hard evidence! Uncle, I _know_, and deep down you do too."

Uther audibly gulped. "And you've actually seen them together?"

Morgana wanted to smack her forehead in desperation. Hadn't he just read all of this—finally seen it with his own two eyes? Did she need a plane writing things in the sky to spell everything out before Uther finally believed? "If you just_ look _at them, you can tell. Lord have mercy, the two lovebirds practically _flaunt _their debauchery! The fleeting glances, secret touches, private—"

"Anything besides that, anything concrete?"

"Well, he's certainly bought her things. Personal things you would only buy for someone you care about."

"Things like what, trinkets?"

"Hardly. The first thing he bought her was a book: the original was destroyed when Arthur's friends attacked Gwen. After that incident, that's when they began to become close. But he has purchased expensive things too, Uncle. For Gwen's birthday, Arthur gave her this necklace which rivals anything in my jewelry box."

Uther fully reclined in his chair, rubbing his closed eyes in exhaustion. He had been having such a good day, and now this of all things? He felt a migraine fast approaching as he thought on how to appropriately deal with this…situation. It wasn't long before he said to his niece: "Bring him in here, bring Arthur to me."

"Huh?"

"Did I stutter Morgana? I said get him in here at once. I don't care where he is, but I want him in this office."

Morgana looked at her Uncle with blatant skepticism. He was hardly flushed, no piping steam had burst from his ears, and not even a paper clip had been turned over in anger…he seemed to be taking the news in tremendous and unexpected stride. "Yes sir, I'll fetch him right away."

Uther watched Morgana scamper out of the room, as he pushed his chair farther away from the desk and ruffled his hair. He focused on breathing steadily, and not letting his mind run too wild with scenarios. Arthur had indulged with a maid. Uther wasn't sure whether or not he should laugh or wipe the proverbial sweat from his brow that it actually wasn't something _serious_. For once, this mess of Arthur's would be relatively easy to clean up. And by God, Morgana delivered the news as if she was revealing that Arthur was a Soviet spy! He was a man, hadn't she remembered?

"Every man of Arthur's standing pulls this stunt at least once." Uther clasped his hands together in prayer, and shook them towards the ceiling in grave thanksgiving. "Thank you God for letting this happen now, and not when he was married. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Uther had about ten minutes of twisting in his chair, wondering how exactly to start the conversation before he heard the knock at the door. He stood. "Come in, Arthur."

Arthur opened the door, taking a quick look about the office before stepping inside, his black dress shoes squeaking slightly against the hardwood floor. He held an apple in his hand, taking a large chomp as he shut the door behind him.

"Arthur," Uther acknowledged his son with a curt nod.

"Father," Arthur did the same. "So I've been summoned…I saw you looking over some legal work earlier; did you want to show me something?"

Uther held up his hand. "No no, there'll be no need for that. But we do need to talk, son."

"Alright."

Uther leaned against his desk, folding his arms over his chest as he looked at his feet deep in thought. "Is there something you would like to tell me? About you and—" Uther's memory faltered for a moment, "yes: Gwen Gibson?"

Arthur hadn't meant it, but his large apple slipped through his sweaty hand like butter sliding off of a hot griddle, clattering to the wooden ground with a shallow thump. But Arthur made not even the slightest movement to pick it up, because he knew that in that moment, that apple was terribly insignificant. What were the right words to say in such a predicament? "_What? Gwen…who?"_ or "_yeah, about that…surprise!" _just didn't seem befitting.

"So, it's true then?"

Arthur only nodded; there was no point in denying it. His time had come. "It's true."

Uther only nodded, looking back down at his feet again, well aware that his calm demeanor was unnerving his son even further. Uther couldn't help it as he began to chuckle again. "Well, I'm not _terribly_ surprised."

"You're not…angry?"

"Angry for what? Good God, I'm_ relieved_!"

Arthur visibly flinched.

"You had a fling with a colored girl, got it out of your system, and now your curiosity has been quenched. I'm well aware of the temptation of serving girls and honestly it was only a matter of time."

Arthur was so astounded, that he stood rooted in his place, his mouth agape with astonishment. This was good! Did his father actually understand? "I'm sorry I didn't come to you sooner."

Uther shrugged. "This has gone on a little longer than necessary, but no serious harm has been done. But you can never see this girl again," he explained with a single laugh. "This all has to end immediately, of course."

Arthur's ears perked up, and his heart plummeted to his shoes. "But you_ just_ said no harm had been done."

"Arthur, you've had your fun, and now it must come to an end," Uther said with more edge in his voice. "No worries: I'll quietly let her go, perhaps give her a small bonus to ensure her locked lips, and then everyone moves on."

Arthur began to shake his head so vigorously that he feared he would give himself whiplash. "You can't do that. Guinevere has done nothing wrong—"

"I_ can_, and I_ will_. You will sever all ties with your little toy."

"Father, please, her family would suffer terribly if she lost her job. I couldn't live with myself if—"

Uther tilted his head to the side with obvious confusion. "And…why should that concern me? Besides, if she cared about her family so much she should've thought of that before she consented to this little affair." Uther began to move towards his desk once again, and Arthur followed him.

"Are you listening to a word I'm saying? It's not just some affair, Father!"

"I've seen it before, Arthur," Uther spoke to his son in a condescending and dismissive tone. He knew what was best, and Arthur too would realize this in time. "You're just under her spell, and this is why such affairs shouldn't last as long as this one has," Uther continued, picking up a pen. "It's high time to set this carnal lust aside and go after more concrete things, such as marriage, a family, and furthering the business. It's really time for you to start courting women again. You're twenty-two now—"

"No, Father! I love her!" Arthur stepped in front of his Uther, making sure that he held the old man's steely eyes, showing him just how rational he was: Gwen had him under no spell. "I love Guinevere…and I won't deny it any longer; not to you, not to anyone."

Uther's jaw twitched and all color flushed from his cheeks. "You would do best to take care with your words, boy."

Arthur audibly gulped. "Guinevere is not some piece of raw meat I was craving for, and this isn't adolescent curiosity. I'm absolutely smitten with her Father, and this is why I can't let you do anything to hurt her. She's special to me."

Uther's first reaction was to laugh, but that laughter quickly ceased as he saw the look on his son's face and he took a frightened step backward. "But…you're serious? No, no, no, you don't understand what you're saying. You're drunk with lust; your judgment is clouded by her exoticness! She's done this to you, they're temptresses, all of them Arthur!"

"She resisted me—"

"Lies! She must have wanted it: dropping signals and sublime propositions!"

"I fell in love with her slowly—"

"Stop it!" The cap on Uther's bottle of rage finally popped. "Stop using that word to describe your feelings for a nigger! It is unnatural and disgusting!"

"What's disgusting is all the women who flock to me because of my money and looks. But if you'd just listen to a word I'm saying, you'd be happy for me! Happy that I'm actually in love with someone who loves me back, and that _I'm _finally happy. And I know she's a colored, but I can't help that and frankly I don't give a damn!"

"You shut your mouth this instant!" Uther roared, pointing angrily at his son who was now on a roll.

"What I have with Guinevere is far beyond lust or curiosity. And like you said: I'm twenty-two, and I think I can figure these things out by now. I want only her."

"So you would forsake everything you have now for a simple negro? For an ugly, uneducated and classless maid? You're too good for this Arthur!"

"Don't you talk about her like that. You don't even know her!"

Uther held up both of his hands, telling Arthur to stop speaking. "Why am I even arguing over this? I don't need your permission to do anything, boy. And it's best I clean this entire mess now when no one knows of this now except for Morgana and Merl—"

"M-m-morgana?"

"As you would know, this little tryst of yours has caused your cousin tremendous pain. The poor thing: she came to me today nearly in tears, all because of this maid. She did the right thing, telling me."

"Morgana…" Arthur said to himself, turning his back to his father as his mind attempted to process a thousand different thoughts at once. Morgana did this to him? His own flesh and blood had sold him out to his father and now Guinevere would have to pay? Why would Morgana do that? She and Gwen were—used to be friends, and Morgana knew Uther well enough to know that Gwen would be the only one to suffer; is that what she wanted?

"Why would she do that?" Arthur asked nearly in a whisper.

"Because she has good sense, and I'm glad she did."

"This was none of her business!" Arthur roared. "Who the hell does Morgana think she is!" Arthur looked on his father's desk to find scattered book pages, with Morgana's writing. As if in a trance, his legs took him to them where he picked up a few.

Uther could see his son's pain through his contorted features: the pain of betrayal, confusion and then simmering anger.

"Why would she do this! What gives her the right?"

"Arthur, I should ask you the same thing!" Morgana's feminine tone filled the room in response, taking the two men by surprise.

"Morgana! Get out of here, this instant!"

"No, Uncle! You're letting Arthur off of the hook for everything!" Morgana was red in the face as she walked across the room to her relatives. "You've practically given him a pat on the back! Lord, is there a club for people like him, do y'all compare notes or something?"

"Mind how you speak to me, young lady!"

"Aren't you going to ask him, Uncle? About everything! Why he had to do it with someone in our household, why he let it go on for so long?"

"I needn't know the answer to those questions—"

"Arthur," Morgana turned to her cousin, and she could see that his knuckles were white and his teeth gritting together just at the sight of her. "Does someone need to write it on your forehead to get it through your thick skull that these sorts of relationships only end in disaster? You're doing the same exact thing Mary Tate did, and I don't know if it's ignorance or arrogance which made you think you could do this and come out unscathed."

"You're supposed to be my family and Guinevere was your friend!" Arthur didn't intend to grant Morgana any satisfaction with answers to any questions she may have.

Morgana snorted. "She stopped being that the moment she rolled into your bed. I always knew you were a hound dog, but Jesus Arthur, you couldn't leave this _one_ girl? Do you have such little self control? Well, I must say your reputation is well deserved."

"Watch it, Morgana!" Uther was able to insert a warning amidst Arthur and Morgana's argument which was going back and forth like a ping-pong match.

"Seen as you seem to know everything, Morgana, you ought to know that this isn't a simple affair. It's deeper—"

"So I've heard you say many times like a fool. So what? You plan on asking everyone nicely to accept your nigger mistress? Is that the advice your idiot priest gave you, or was that Merlin's sage wisdom?"

Arthur felt as if someone had punched him in the gut, and he had to fight the urge to double over in disgust. "So you've been following me too?"

"Good thing someone in this family is actually keeping tabs on you!"

"Oh my God, you're sick!" Arthur took a step away from his cousin. "Father, you're alright with all of this?"

"All of this is too much, just too much," Uther lamented.

"Uncle," Morgana turned to Uther as she began to plead, "just firing Gwen won't do anything! Arthur has made it clear that his petty emotions have the best of him, and he'll continue to see her no matter what."

"Morgana, shut your mouth!"

"Uncle," Morgana ignored her cousin's outburst, turning her full attention to Uther. "Arthur is dead set in running our name into the ground, turning it into mush. Can't you see he's doing this all of this to spite you? You have to eliminate Gwen completely."

"Eliminate her? Father, don't listen to her! She's speaking nonsense. Guinevere has done nothing!"

"Uncle," Morgana reached out for Uther's arm, whose head was swiveling back and forth to each speaker. "He's back pedaling now, and you know he doesn't mean it!"

"Morgana, you shut the hell up, you evil witch!"

"You see? Uncle, he can't even see clearly through his emotional fog. You want to protect this family and everything you've worked so hard for, don't you?"

"You know I do," Uther finally answered in an airy tone.

"Then do what has to be done…no matter what it is."

Uther looked down at his niece with admiration, wondering exactly what went wrong with Arthur. "The maid must be dealt with in haste. The temptress will leave and then you'll be free to pursue proper things, Arthur. It's all for the best, it's the natural order of things," Uther said with a light empathetic tone which almost sounded like he was making a mockery of Arthur.

"No!" Arthur reached out for his father. "Father, you don't have to do this! Please, punish me! This is all my fault! She's a good girl who hasn't hurt anyone a day in her life!" Arthur was grappling for the words to right this situation, but Morgana's notions had burrowed deep in Uther's mind, and now he too would react out of fear as Morgana had.

"My judgment is final," Uther said with declarative resignation. "The girl shall be terminated immediately, and I will see to it that she and her family are forced to move far away from this town. She will rue the day she drove a wedge in this family. You've made it abundantly clear that your feelings for this girl are too strong for her to remain within your reach. Son, you leave me absolutely no choice."

Arthur wanted to tell his father that he couldn't do such a thing, but the truth was that he probably could. More than likely, Dragon Real Estate owned the land the Gibson's rented and if not, Uther only had to make a few phone calls to the company which did and everything would be quickly and quietly settled. Anybody who was somebody owed Uther Pendragon at least one favor. Making sure the Gibsons were driven far away from Arthur would be as simple and painless as making dinner reservations.

Merlin entered the office amidst the tense silence, quietly closing the door behind him and surveying the room. He had traveled downstairs with Arthur when he was sent for, and since then he and Morgana had been listening to the debacle between Arthur and Uther before she decided to add her two cents. Now Merlin felt that it was best if he too were in the room, even if it was only to restrain Arthur when he decided to go for Uther's jugular vein with a letter opener from his desk.

"Father, I beg you: reconsider." Arthur's eyes darted about the room like a caged animal. "You were right! I should've only seen Gwen once and then quietly taken care of it. It was irresponsible and selfish of me to be with her for so long, and I can't believe I degraded myself so terribly as to be with her. Morgana," Arthur turned to his cousin whose eyes were as cold as ice, and he had to force his next words even harder, "you're right. I should've learned from Mary Tate's example, and it was arrogant for me to do what she did and expect to get off scot-free. I don't want us to end up like the Tate family, and I don't want Guine—the maid—to suffer like the Neelys. If you have a shred of mercy Father, please just fire her. I'll make sure she doesn't say a word, she listens to me. And I promise, _promise _to stay far away from her."

Uther actually looked like he was torn between better reason which told him fair was for fools and his gnawing conscience which reminded him that he too had been in love once.

Morgana shook her head. "Arthur, as evil as you think I may be, I wish such drastic action needn't be taken. But the truth of the matter is that we're in way too deep now. The line between clemency and no holding back has been doubly crossed."

"And what line is that, Morgana?" Merlin asked with repugnance.

Morgana looked directly at her cousin, ready to drop the bombshell she had been withholding until the right moment. Now seemed as good a time as any. "The bastard mongrel baby Arthur has fathered, and which Gwen is _still _carrying as we speak."

All three men had thoughts in mind which they were prepared to blurt out to further the argument, but their mouths shut as they heard Morgana's chilling words. Uther grabbed his chest for he feared his air restriction had been cut off, Merlin ran a pale hand over his mouth, and Arthur choked on the air he was desperately trying to get into his lungs. He wanted desperately to respond to Morgana's ludicrous accusations, but he found that his tongue fell heavy in his mouth and his lips refused to part for speech.

Uther felt his heart; this was all becoming too much. A colored mistress—he could handle that with a flick of his pen, no worries. Alright, Arthur claimed to be in love—now it became a tad bit messy, but still it could be taken care of. But when Arthur had done everything short of kissing Uther's feet and begging that Gwen be spared, the patriarch began to worry that this matter was beyond his control. But now a baby…with Arthur as the father and the maid the—no! This was all too much! He could feel his heart weakening and life span shrinking with every new revelation.

"Morgana, you don't know what you're talking about!" Merlin finally spoke when it appeared that everyone would remain silent.

"Oh, you can shove a damn sock in it Merlin. You're not even family, so I don't know why the hell you're in here! And she's had morning sickness for the past week, so how do you explain that!"

"You're really the dumbest person I've ever known," Merlin said closing his eyes and pinching his forehead.

It was now Arthur's turn. "Father, it's utterly _impossible _for Gwen to be pregnant because she's still a virgin."

"Ha!" Morgana cackled. "Oh, give me a break!"

"Well Morgana, this must be the second fucking immaculate conception because I haven't slept with Gwen—not once."

Morgana ceased laughing. "…What?"

"Guinevere and I have never been intimate."

Uther knew that this would surely be the death of him, or at the very least he would clobber to floor in an unconscious heap. "Wait a minute, wait a damn minute! Everyone just quit talking! So you're telling me, that you've been with this girl since last summer, but you two—you two haven't had relations _at all_?"

Arthur shook his head.

"That's a lie! There would be no other reason for you to be with her!"

"It's called 'love' Morgana! I love Guinevere Gibson so much that if she doesn't want to, then neither do I. And this 'morning sickness' you mentioned; she's had a stomach bug for the past week."

Morgana's eyes widened to saucers as her eyes darted about the room, landing on Merlin and his smug grin. Oh, how she wanted to smack it off! "But I_ can't _be wrong about this!"

"Well you are, just like so many other things," Merlin informed his nemesis.

"See Father? I've been trying to tell you this entire time that this is not just some affair; I'm not using my position to take advantage of her."

Uther looked at his son, totally bewildered. He was not prepared to deal with _this_! Lust was simple…love, not so much. "Arthur, if your feelings are as strong as you claim, then my decision remains doubly firm: the…girl…must…leave."

"Then I'm leaving to."

"No you're not."

"Is this is how you want it?"

"Arthur you're not going anywhere!" Uther declared. "I forbid you to destroy your life with this negro woman!"

"You can go to hell. And how's this for a shocker, Father? I asked Guinevere to marry me—I got her a ring and everything—and she said yes and we're getting far away from this place. Far away from people like you and Morgana. And we're going to start a family together right away—a big one, with lots of curly headed 'mongrel' kids, Morgana. And we're gonna travel together, get old together, and do everything else that normal married people do. And you know what, I can't fucking wait."

"You are no longer my son." Uther said after a moment of silence. "You are as good as dead to me."

Arthur looked squarely at his father, trying not to let him know just how much those words hurt. "You have pushed me to this. You're supposed to listen, to understand. But your heart is so hard that," Arthur shrugged, "why even try?"

"Arthur, if you leave here tonight, know that you can _never _come back. I will not let you anywhere near Dragon Real Estate, nor your inheritance."

Arthur began to breathe a little harder, but this is what he wanted. "I don't need you."

"You'll come back begging in a month. You're nothing without your good name or your money. No one will respect you and you'll live like a dog in the streets; in squalor for the rest of your life. You come from a line of kings and this is how you honor your heritage?"

Arthur was already making his way to the door, with Merlin at his side. "Taking my money away won't make me miserable, and it surely won't make me come back here. You're the one pushing me away, not Guinevere."

Uther began to chase his only son, partly in anger and partly because he thought Arthur would have recanted by now. He should've retracted all declarations of love the moment Uther mentioned his inheritance and Dragon Real Estate, but instead he was heading towards the door with increased speed! "And Merlin, I don't ever want to see your face around her either! If you leave with him, know that you and you and your family may never call the Pendragons allies ever again!"

Merlin opened the door for his friend, not even looking back at Uther.

Uther stepped into the hallway, watching his son literally walk out of his life. "A nigger lover! That's all you are! You shame me and this family and I'm glad your mother isn't here to see the man you've become! Get out! Pack all of your things and get the hell out of my house! I swear on the Good Book that if you're not off of _my _property in the next ten minutes, I'll phone the sheriff and have you hauled in for trespassing!" With each breath Uther walked farther into the hallway, sending all life scattering to unseen positions. Uther charged to the stairs, resting one hand on the banister as he watched his son fall out of view and into his room.

"Mr. Uther, is everything alright?" Stella asked, approaching her beet-red boss with the same caution as she would a rabid dog.

"You!" Uther snapped, pointing at the woman who had been a thorn at his side ever since Arthur was a boy. "This is all your fault!" It was because of Stella that Arthur was so sensitive to colored women—yes, he had been conditioned at an early age! "I never should have let you so close to my son. You've ruined his life."

Stella looked up the stairs where she saw Arthur and Merlin flee only moments ago.

"Well you're fired! And take that whore Gwen Gibson with you!"

Stella stumbled backward a few steps, covering her mouth. "Oh no…"

All of Uther's wrath was now directed against Stella; the uppity maid! Well, this was the last time he would have to deal with her insolence. "You deliver a message to that filthy whore, and her dirty family: I'm coming for them. She will regret the day she ever set her sights on my son. I will make sure that everything they have is taken away, and this time next week they'll be begging in the street where they belong, so help me _God_!"

Arthur came jogging down the stairs, two duffle bags in either hand and Merlin clumsily lugging a half zipped suit case behind him. He stopped in front of his father, glancing for a moment towards Stella who was crying.

"This is your last chance Arthur. Think about the pain you will put this family and yourself through if you run off to God knows where with this girl. Listen to me: renounce all feelings for the nigger and everything will be as it should."

Arthur's heart beat against his chest like a drum; not because he was uncertain but because of the finality of the entire situation. He knew this day would come, and this is where he would stand up for everything he believed in. "I will do no such thing."

Uther's jaw twitched in anger as he looked upon his disgraceful and stubborn son. "You will regret this day Arthur. Every day you wake up and find you have nothing, you will regret this moment."

"I'll look back at it with fondness. It was the day I was set free."

Uther's eyes narrowed to slits. He had given his son the world on a silver platter; anything he wanted it was there in an instant. He had the best of everything, and now not only was he settling for mediocrity but he was settling for bestiality. Arthur Lewis Pendragon was no son of his. "Don't think you're taking the Austin Martin, or any of your other cars. They're all mine now."

Arthur looked at Stella, then to Merlin, before taking a deep breath. "It didn't have to be this way, Father."

Uther grabbed his sons arm as he tried to leave. "Your wrist watch—take it off; I gave that to you."

Arthur dropped his duffel bag, and took off the silver Rolex without a second thought.

Uther pointed to Arthur's wrist. "The cuff links too; I purchased those on your seventeenth birthday."

Arthur never broke eye contact as he took off the silver-engraved cuff links. "And while I'm at it, take my shoes too," Arthur said shuffling got take off his expensive loafers. "You bought me those didn't you? And let's throw in the socks for good measure."

Uther remained stoic as Arthur pushed the items over, but became alarmed once he started unbuttoning his red shirt. "Arthur!"

"No, you bought me this shirt too; I insist." Stella began to weep louder as Arthur pulled off the dress shirt, shoving it in his father's direction. Feeling prouder than ever, shirtless and with bare feet, Arthur picked up his two bags and marched straight past his father. He was now his own man, and Uther Pendragon had no authority over him.

"Oh man, oh man, oh man. I can't believe we just did that!" Merlin thought he would begin to hyperventilate as he and Arthur ran down the steps of the estate as fast as they could. "Oh God, Arthur that all just happened! My parents are going to kill me…my poor mother will fall dead when she hears—"

"Your parents are in Brazil, and quite frankly Merlin, they're not in town enough to even care," Arthur snapped.

"You have no shirt on, you have no _shoes_! He literally wouldn't even let you keep the shirt on your back!"

"I want a fresh start," Arthur said avoiding all glances from the staff as he moved onto the gravel, the small rocks piercing his feet.

"Shit, just throw your things in the back. I wanna get outta here before Uther calls together the lynch mob," Merlin opened a back door and tossed Arthur's suit case onto the backseat.

"I'm sure he's already on the phone ordering the cross he'll burn on Gwen's lawn tonight."

Merlin jumped into the driver's seat, his face turning paler than usual. "Don't say that. Why would you say that? Oh my God, oh my God, people _will _come to my house tonight! Won't they? Arthur, what are you going to do? Uther _will _hurt Gwen. You saw the look in his eyes; he means business." Merlin turned the engine over, and floored the gas pedal, creating a monstrous noise. "What are you going to do?"

"Fuck, I don't know! I just got kicked out of my house, I'm not wearing any shoes for God's sake, and I'm practically homeless with a maniacal father on the loose and a Judas Iscariot for a cousin. So right now, I'm taking all of this as it comes, 'cause frankly I didn't plan for any of this shit. I need a cigarette." Arthur paused. "I've never need a cigarette so badly in my entire life." Arthur pulled one from his pocket and wasted no time in lighting it. "Fuck the cigarettes, I need a drink!"

"I'll take one with you!" Merlin looked at Arthur, then back to the road. "I wonder how much tickets for three to New Mexico costs..." Merlin looked at his best friend. "They'll kill me if I stay here."

Arthur looked at Merlin, and while he knew that his life probably wasn't in any immediate danger because of his status, there would be no life for him to live in Dearborn. The moment he aligned himself with Arthur and against Uther, he consented to his own exile.

"If he does anything to Guinevere, I swear to God I'll kill him—'father' or not," Arthur said before taking a long drag. "If it's the last thing I'll do, I'll make him pay for anything that happens to her."

Merlin looked up at the looming rain clouds, and found their presence ironically appropriate. He looked in his rearview mirror, and saw the Pendragon Estate waning in the distance. He pushed his foot even harder against the gas pedal.

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><p><strong>AN: **When I finally finished this chapter I jumped in the air and started laughing! So glad it's up! Wheew! I'm very excited for the next chapter as well. I hope you all enjoyed!


	38. Chapter 38

Dear Readers,

_**She lives!**_ No, I haven't been swallowed up by a black hole, or kidnapped by the Russian mafia or hacked into bits and fed to cannibals. I've been busy (the usual stuff, plus preparing for college, finishing high school, etc.) but I also "lost my muse" to conclude "My Love, My Secret". I know so much of you have been waiting (goodness gracious, has it been a year?) but my lovely muse finally returned in the middle of a car ride from the airport, and I began to write the final chapter of MLMS on my ipod, of all places.

I have been writing another book, and this one has been put on the back burner, and I apologize to all of you loyal readers. I especially send out a huge apology to those who sent me private messages, and it may have taken me months to respond. Your constant input and dedication really humble me, and I hope that you won't be disappointed with the concluding chapter. You're response to the story overall has been absolutely astounding. 748 comments-wow, thank you.

Sorry to leave you hall hanging off a cliff for so long. But enough chit chat, as soon as I get back to my laptop, I'm going to type up the draft I began on my ipod. I want it to be a masterpiece, so I promise that within the next **TWO WEEKS **I'll have the final chapter up. If not, feel free to flood me with PMs and address all hate mail to "YoureAnIllusion".

I should be the last person asking for favors, but if you could, get the word out to any one you know who reads as well to keep checking for an update this week and the next. And tell them to subscribe just to be sure! I want to make sure that everyone who started is able to read the ending-know that the conclusion is actually: Twitter, email, facebook, whatever!

See you soon (I promise)

YoureAnIllusion, #MLMS


	39. Chapter 39

_Well, fina-fucking-ly, right?! Wheew. Here it is. Uhh...enjoy? I won't keep y'all waiting any longer. Not sure if you even bothered to read this "intro"! :) So glad to see that so many of you stuck around. Make sure you tell your friends that this chapter is up, and what not._

_YoureAnIllusion_

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><p><strong>Chapter 38: All's Well That End's Well; Part 1<strong>

It was a beautiful Sunday morning, and the sun's rays were warm and gentle against the crisp blue sky. Every citizen of Dearborn, white and black, young and old, were shining their church shoes and fixing the ribbons on their hats as they prepared for the day's services. Mother's seasoned hams for the night's supper, and fathers fixed the crooked bowties of their sons.

Gwen was sleeping peacefully, so much so that she had not woken up in time for church, and it was nearing ten a.m. She would have continued her slumber had it not been for the thunderous thump of something heavy falling to the ground at the other side of the room. She rolled over, rubbing the sleep from her eyes to find her father at her closet, hastily pulling her dresses of their hangers and throwing it to the suitcase which was sprawled open at his feet.

Every drawer of her dresser was opened with clothes hanging out of the sides and the items which rested at the top knocked over. She sat up straight in alarm, swallowing a shriek as she looked around her room. Gwen felt her throat go dry, and she was hardly able to croak.

"Daddy! What's happening?"

Tom turned around so quickly that it caused Gwen to jump backward, hitting her head against the wall. His eyes were red and his clothes disheveled. "Good, you're up," he kicked the suitcase over to the dresser drawers, throwing articles of clothing onto the expanding heap. Tom paused, heaving as he put his hands on his hips. He kept his back to his daughter, fearing that he would lunge at her with the first opportunity. He closed his eyes tightly, the whispers and nasty gossip swirling in his throbbing head.

"Why didn't you wake me up. It's so late, we'll miss church."

"We ain't going to no church, Gwen."

Gwen slowly stood up, taking only a few steps to her father, approaching him with the same caution as a caged animal. "What's happening?"

Tom finally looked at his daughter, her hair disheveled and without makeup. She looked at him with confusion and worry on her sleepy face.

She looked so young.

So innocent.

She was his little girl.

"Is it true, Gwen? What everyone's sayin' 'bout you? Is it true?" He had intended to say something more eloquent and with a greater preamble, but he could hardly sputter those simple sentences.

Gwen looked at the open suitcase, then to her father and the moment she saw the hurt in his eyes, she knew. The day she had dreaded for nearly a year had come, and now he was packing her things.

"Daddy, let me explain." She took a step toward him, only to halt as he flinched in disgust.

"Believe you me, I got all the explainin' I needed."

"Daddy," Gwen swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I didn't want you to find out this way."

Tom inhaled so sharply that he felt a stabbing pain at his chest, and he took a step backward, stumbling onto the dresser. "Gwen...why?"

Gwen had heard the question, but she didn't know how to respond. She had never actually prepared for this moment, hoping that it would never come. But she always knew that it would–it was something she had tried to push to the deep recesses of her mind.

"Didn't we raise you right? Your mama and I? Didn't we teach you to respect yourself? To have love for your people? I don't...I don't understand." The anger had passed only minutes ago, and it was replaced by all encompassing, soul crushing grief and shame. The entire town knew that his daughter was the mistress to Arthur Pendragon; just another whore, another notch on his whittled bedpost.

Early that morning, he had walked to his front yard to retrieve the Sunday paper, and he saw that his neighbors to the left were gawking at him, and their relatives joined them on the porch the moment he left his house. He waved at them, a family he had known for years, and their mother encouraged the children to go back in the house, she following them close behind.

Tom looked around the street, and next to the burned out lot of the Neely home, he saw two elderly women on their porch, rocking away on their chairs as they unashamedly peered at him over their knitting needles. His neighbors were emerging from their homes, pretending to pick up their newspapers or pump water from their backyards, glancing at him as they went about their morning chores.

Tom suddenly felt as if every eye in the neighborhood was on him, scrutinizing, analyzing, and gossiping. He caught a couple of girls who looked to be Gwen's age pointing at his house, but they quickly turned away when he glared at them.

Alice's screen door opened and closed with a loud snap which caught Tom's attention. "Y'all go on and get. Go on now, get into the house 'fore you get a whoopin'!" She said to her four children who had congregated on their stoop.

"But mama…" one whined, "we wanna watch."

Alice yanked her child up by the arm, pulling him over to the door. "Don't make me tell y'all twice! Look at you, making your Sunday clothes a mess!" The children scampered away before they were sent to search for their own switches.

Alice put her hands on her hips as she looked at her nosy neighbors. Tom stood alone by his mailbox, and her burdened heart broke for the man. She approached them, cutting her eyes at the two old women on their rocking chairs, and they promptly turned the other way. "You just gotta ignore 'em."

He laughed nervously. "Alice...what's goin' on? Did I wake up with three heads or something?"

Alice's immediate response was to laugh politely, but the chuckle trailed off as she realized that Tom was still smiling with oblivious anticipation. He canvased his surroundings once more, and shrugged hopelessly. "I..uhh...oh Lord Jesus." She blinked a few times, placing a hand on her forehead, pulling Tom closer. "You don't know?"

Tom wanted to ask Alice why she was whispering when no one was in ear shot. "No."

"Nobody told you what happened yesterday? At the Pendragon house...with Arthur…" She was giving Tom every chance to interrupt her with foreknowledge, but her remained silent, his brown eyes wide.

"You're startin' to give me a scare, Alice."

"...Maybe it's better you hear it from me," Alice said more to reassure herself. "Where's Gwen?"

"The only place she would be...inside sound asleep."

"Just listen to me Tom, and promise not to do anythin' 'til I finish." She took Tom by the shoulder and guiding him to the back of her house away from prying eyes. "It started yesterday when we all heard a ruckus comin' from Mr. Uther's office…"

Tom had listened to every word with little emotion. When Alice finished, she was in tears but Tom had turned into a stoic statue. He calmly thanked Alice for her candor and walked next door to his own home, with the Sunday paper in hand.

He didn't know how long he sat on the sofa in the living room, his head in his hands, thinking over the past couple of months. His immediate reaction was to deny any of the claims Alice made to that of an overactive imagination craving to break the monotony of a maid's chores.

But then he started to think about Gwen's recent strange behavior. The long absences, mood swings...but that didn't mean that she was with Arthur Pendragon. She had more sense then that–he would be the last person she'd take up with. He was the anti-Gwen–he almost laughed the notion away before he remembered the numerous occasions where the Pendragon had entered casual conversation, and Gwen would become especially silent or would defend him with a pithy remark. He thought it was out of respect, but after what Alice told him, he wasn't so sure anymore.

Arthur had also saved Gwen from harassment by his friends, something which Tom considered to be very out of character. And then he had purchased her a new copy of the book which was destroyed...had he noticed her with anything else new? Money was tight, and the only things which Gwen bought were for the home, rarely purchasing anything for herself, and if she did, Tom knew about it.

He knew what he must do.

He crept as quietly as he could to his daughter's room, opening the door without a single creak. She was lightly snoring, her quilts almost covering her entire head, creating a tight cocoon. On top of her dresser was where she kept her brushes, perfume, and sparse jewelry. He sustained the urge to rummage through it all, doing his best to quietly move each bottle and brush so as not to wake up his daughter.

All of the perfumes were scents or names which he recognized–cheap no-name brands which were only a few cents. He opened the tiny jewelry box and expected to find a few earrings, bracelets, and chains. He did find those things, but underneath a stunning blue pendant which appeared to be irradiated despite the dull jewelry piled atop of it. It was cool and heavy in his hand–a magnificent piece which he certainly did not buy for his daughter. It was a year's wages at the very least.

So Gwen was worth a year's pay?

He retrieved the old suitcase from his bedroom, and promptly proceeded to pack for Gwen. No child of his would be a kept woman and stay in his house.

Gwen remained frozen as her father awaited her response. "Arthur and I...it's not how you think."

An empty chuckle escaped Tom's pursed lips. "Ha! It ain't how I think? What's this, huh?" Tom pulled the sapphire necklace from the top of the dresser drawer, and dangled it in the air. "What else has he given you? How much did he have to pay you before you spread your legs for him?" Tom's voice slightly cracked as it steadily rose to an ashamed roar.

"I never laid with him, I promise!"

"You're a liar, Guinevere!" He took a step away from his daughter, throwing the necklace to her feet. "Quit lying to me! You have shamed this family, shamed our name. Everyone knows, everyone's talkin' 'bout what a hussy you is. And then you come to my house, you eat my food–what else has that Pendragon's money paid for? How much of us does he own?"

"Arthur loves me," she said quietly.

"No he don't. Ain't no way for it to be so."

"I love him too."

"Well then you're a fool on top of it," Tom sneered. "So is that it then? You're choosing some white boy over your family?"

"I don't have to choose–"

"Yes you do!" Tom stomped his foot against the ground, causing the dresser to shake. "You're no daughter of mine while you're with him."

"We haven't done anything wrong," Gwen could feel the tears threatening to fall to her cheeks, and she quickly wiped her eyes. "Arthur is a good man–"

Tom kicked the suitcase towards Gwen, some of the dresses falling off of the top. "Go! Just go, go, go!" He waved his arms as he walked around her, moving towards the bedroom door. "Arthur and his kin are like chameleons–they change their colors, their personalities, to survive, to get what they want. Ain't no way you know the real him, there's no way you can when you talk 'bout him like he ain't a monster, like he might actually give a hoot 'bout you—'bout us. Don't think Millie, not even for a second, that you mean anythin' to him. Don't think that he won't toss you out like Thursday's trash when he's through with you! Or until he's ground you down to nothin', to absolute nothin' and then you'll come runnin' back to us. He can't give you nothin' but empty promises. Love is just a four letter word–a word that fools place all their hope in."

Gwen dropped to her knees, stuffing the clothes into the suitcase and zipping it up as the tears freely fell. "I thought I could trust you, that you'd understand."

"There's nothin' to understand 'bout this. You're bein' a darn fool. A straight up fool. I won't be able to show my face in this town without people whisperin' 'bout you. So where you gonna go? Back to his house?"

"No."

"Uther's on the war path. Yup, sure is. He kicked your sugar daddy outta the house yesterday, without even the shirt on his back."

Gwen quickly stooped fastening the suitcase.

"And next he's gon' come for us."

Gwen knew that she couldn't make any promises that he wouldn't.

"What do you think Arthur's gonna do with you when he gets tired of you."

"We're gettin' married."

"You're…" Tom tilted his head to the side, trying to detect any ironic humor in his daughter's voice. "No you ain't!"

"I've got a ring and everythin'."

"Were do you think you're gonna go?"

"We're–"

"Don't tell me! I don't wanna know. It don't matter no how." Tom walked out of the room, Gwen following behind him. "I hope y'all go somewhere where Uther can't get his hands on you."

"Daddy! Please wait," Gwen reached to grab his arm, and Tom violently withdrew.

"Go on then, if you're grown. Go on and make your own decisions. Pack up all of your stuff. When I come back, I want you gone. You'll be back when he's through with you." Tom couldn't bare to look at his daughter for a moment longer, and he promptly left, slamming the door behind him.

Gwen stood alone, staring at the door. It was the last time she would see her father.

* * *

><p>Arthur and Gwen had been waiting at the town's only train station for the past fifteen minutes which had proved to be the most nerve wracking fifteen minutes of their lives. The train station was segregated, as all other public facilities, and the couple managed to stand next to each other by moving to the outskirts of their respective sections and meeting in the middle. They stood in idle silence for most of the time, partially out of nervousness partially because they were busy reflecting on the event of the past months which had completely transformed their lives. Now they were fleeing the only home either of them had known, leaving scorned families and moving to an uncertain future.<p>

They each had only one suitcase. Alice had secretly packed away some of Arthur's clothes, family photos, and important documents when Uther and Morgana were away from the house. Last night, Arthur met Stella and Alice's on a backroad near their homes, and the suitcase was delivered along with last goodbyes. Stella wept uncontrollably as if she would never see him again, and at first Arthur didn't know how to react because he had never seen her cry before. It pained him to see her so distraught, like watching a great Red Oak be cut down. But he promised to call and write, and to visit when things settled down.

"Arthur, be safe," her tears nearly prevented her from speaking, as she hugged Arthur tightly.

"I'll be back," he said rubbing her back assuringly.

"Take care of Gwen, you hear?" She momentarily pushed away and held onto his shoulders to establish eye contact. "You're a good man Arthur, and the Lord will keep y'all safe."

"We'll be fine, don't you worry."

"I just don't want you to leave. It won't be the same without you...I miss you already. You know, you're the only child I ever had."

"I'm worried about you, Stella. Will you be okay–safe from my father?"

"Uther ain't doin' nothin' to a little old lady like me," she said quickly wiping her tears. "There's not much he can take from me, no how."

"What about Gwen's dad? Her brother? What's happened with them since?"

The two maids looked at each other with worried glances. "Ain't nobody seen them for the past two days," Alice said. She was their neighbor, and accustomed to seeing Tom in the morning picking up his newspaper or walking with Elliott to the bus stop. She asked around, and apparently the men had not been to work either.

"They up and left," Stella said quietly. "My husband went lookin' 'round to see if everything was alright. He looked through the window to their kitchen, and saw their pots and pans were gone. He walked 'round to the back and the door was left open. He walked in, said the place was darn near empty. They must've left in the night. Nobody saw 'em, and if they did, they ain't saying nothin'."

"They didn't leave any word?"

"Not a peep."

"You think Elliot took off too?"

"I'd bet money on it. He ain't letting his papa go nowhere by himself. They'll be better off, startin' fresh where no one knows who they are."

Arthur looked at the ground, rubbing his chin with deep concern. "Gwen won't wanna leave if she knows they're gone. She'll want to stay and find out where they are first."

"Honey, they're gone. Ain't no findin' them unless they wanna find you. It's for their safety, and it's a smart thing to do."

"You and Gwen need to leave as soon as possible, before things get dangerous for y'all."

"We leave tomorrow afternoon."

"Good," Stella said with a heavy heart. "Word has gotten 'round about you two; everyone and they's aunties know now."

Arthur grinned. "Dearborn will never forget the Pendragon boy, will they?"

"Morgana's done near lost her mind," Alice shook her head, biting her lower lip.

Since Stella was fired after Uther's outburst and Arthur's flight, she and Mabel were the only maids working in the house. They walked on egg shells, careful to be polite and more seen and unheard than ever. For the past two days, Uther had been away most of the time, while Morgana was locked in her room, refusing to come down except to eat, and even then, Mabel had to put food outside of her door for a couple of meals.

Uther was attempting to do as much damage control as humanly possible. News of Arthur's love affair had spread around the small town like wild fire, the matches and pine needles were the staff who saw his outburst, and residents who had seen Tom throw his daughter to the street. Even societies wealthiest and most respected, a class he still considered him to be a part of despite the sudden isolation, had received news of Arthur and his negro mistress from their maids. Those three factors were sufficient in spreading the town's most explosive gossip in years.

He had marched to the Dearborn Journal, the town's major newspaper, the moment he received a tip that a front page article about Arthur would go to print the next day.

"I can't Mr. Pendragon. Look, no hard feelings, okay?" Percy Wallace, the editor-in-chief of the newspaper sucked at his cigar, shrugging apologetically. This cover story would ensure the purchase of thousands of copies; it wasn't a story one passed up because of common decency. There was no room for decency in this business, especially when such an opportunity presented itself.

"Boy," Uther was standing in front of Percy Wallace, his face red with anger, "you will not print any kind of story about me or my family."

"Freedom of speech," he took the cigar out of his mouth for a moment. "It's our right."

"And it's my right to sue this entire company for slander and yellow journalism!"

"It ain't slander if it's true."

The sly grin on Percy's face pierced Uther at his jugular, and for a moment he was stunned at the audacity of the young man. A week ago, no man, especially not the editor-in-chief of a local newspaper, would treat him with such disrespect. Uther never had to argue–not with anyone. He had stopped the printing of stories on numerous occasions, his enormous clout making it as easy as a simple phone call. But the owner of the Dearborn Journal was not taking his calls and his secretary giving him the run around, so Uther was forced to speak with Percy Wallace a man he detested.

He was ruined.

There was no respect left for him. Arthur had ruined their name in Dearborn, a town which their family had been a respectable fixture in for hundreds of years. He was Uther Pendragon, his name alone allowed him access to anything he desired as quickly as he desired.

Now it was a badge of shame.

"I'm a patron of the Journal, and if it wasn't for me, you would be toothless hog farmer without a penny to your worthless name! Your family owes me more favors than y'all can count, not to mention all of the binds I've gotten your nephew, Drake, out of and all of his knucklehead friends!"

"Sir, you need to calm down."

"I don't take orders from white trash!"

"Hold on–"

"You will not treat me like a low class nobody! I am telling you that not a single word will be printed about my son or what you think you know about him! You send down the order to take that garbage off of the printer–now!"

"Mr. Pendragon, this ain't your office and it sure as hell ain't your call. If you don't want your business in the paper, keep it out of the street! I'm just reporting town happenings, and your scandal is the biggest fish in town right now."

Uther leaned over the desk, plucking the cigar from the man's thin lips, throwing it to the carpet and stomping it out. "Listen to me, you goddamn son of a bitch," he felt his esteem raise as he looked at the familiar expression of terror as the man glanced at the burnt spot on his carpet, his mouth agape. "I can be on the phone with the owner of the Journal in a skinny minute, and have your job given to the lowest employee and have the deed to your house in the next."

"I'd like to see you try–sir." Percy stood up after he was sure his knees wouldn't tremble. He walked to the door, and opened it quickly. "You should leave now. I'm fixin' to call security in a skinny minute."

"You're nothin' more than a yellow belly, printing gossip about a respected family," Uther sneered.

"Y'all ain't so respected anymore."

Uther brushed past the man, intentionally hitting his shoulder. He stopped abruptly, looking him in the eye as his voice became a low growl. "You're making a big mistake here."

"You're waistin' your time here. There's nothing you can do to stop this story from coming out. Give Arthur my best." Percy grinned as Uther turned away, trudging through the cubicles and towards the building's exit. "I'll make sure to print a good picture of your boy and his girl!" Percy cupped his hands around his mouth to project his voice, gloating at his victory.

But the triumph was short lived. Percy's last comment so bludgeoned Uther's wounded pride, that the only emotion he had left was rage. Loud gasps and screams ensued as the entire office watched Uther charge at Percy Wallace like a bull through a red flag. The sheer momentum of Uther's body knocked Percy to the ground, pinned under Uther's weight as the first blow came against the bridge his nose. He squirmed amidst the surprised shrieks which pierced his throbbing ears, trying to shield himself form Uther's fury. Luckily, two reporters leapt from their stations and pulled Uther off of the whimpering Percy. The old man was out of breath, but more than ready to fight.

"C'mon then, you coward! You've got fighting words, well c'mon then!"

With the help of a female coworker, Percy stood, feeling the back of his bloodied head. He looked at his hands which were red with the sticky liquid, and he felt all of the pain from his nose.

"Call the police! I want him arrested for aggravated assault!"

Uther tried to push the two reporters off of him. "You're an inbred ass!" Uther was referring to the fact that the assault wasn't aggravated unless he had a deadly weapon and intent to kill.

The woman gently took Percy's arm, horrified at Uther's outburst and continued resistance. "Mr. Wallace, come and sit down. Let's get some ice...oh God."

As she pulled him away to the break room, Percy inhaled shallow breaths despite the consolation. "I think it's broken...holy hell, I think the lunatic broke my nose!"

Within ten minutes, Uther Pendragon was in the back of a police squad car, looking at the Dearborn Journal building in seething contempt. In that instance he resolved to burn the building to the ground and dance a jig of thanksgiving over the charred rubble.

Now he would be on the front page along with his son. The damage control he sought to execute had imploded and now he would spend the night in a jail cell with common scum. He wanted to die.

"Mr. Pendragon, you're in one mighty bind," the arresting officer said with a sigh as he entered the car. He looked at the back seat at Uther who just looked out of the window, his face contorted from lack of sleep and fury, perhaps heart ache as well. "You assaulted a man in a room full of witnesses. I can't just let you go sir...I apologize. Percy Wallace is pressing charges. I have to take you in."

Uther finally looked at the man, his mouth set in a straight line. He made eye contact, and promptly returned to staring out of the window. He would call his lawyer and Morgana the moment he arrived to the holding cell. He would be out within the hour and the charges would be dropped. There would be a loophole. There was always a loophole.

For most of the drive, he hung his head, ensuring that the passing drivers couldn't see his face. He occasionally glanced upward to see how close he was to the police station. At the last light before the station, Uther noticed a familiar car on the opposite side of the road, quickly approaching the squad car and preparing to pass. His mouth dropped open as he saw Merlin driving with both hands on the large wheel, and Arthur in the passenger seat. He thought that he caught a glimpse of Gwen in the back, but they passed too fast for him to be certain.

"O-o-officer! Turn around, you have to turn around!"

He checked his rearview mirror. "And why would I do that? The station is–"

"My son! I just saw my son!"

The officer sighed, pulling into the station. "Please don't involve me in that mess, sir."

"You must go back and arrest that girl!" The officer did not insist on handcuffing Uther, and he slammed his free hands against the seat. "If I'm going to jail for defending my family from scum, I want to see that hussy locked up for breaking the miscegenation laws!"

The officer paused as his memory faltered to recognize the uncommon word. Miscegenation–the legal term used for race mixing, whether it be in marriage or casual affairs. Laws had been enacted since the colonial era in America, meant to cement the barriers between races and discourage intermarrying and diluting either race. In many Southern states, anti-miscegenation laws were eradicated after the Civil War, only to be reenacted with tougher penalties with the advent of Jim Crow laws. Interracial couples who attempted to marry in states with anti-miscegenation laws were committing felonies and could face jail sentences, along with the officiator over their ceremony.

"Oh...Mr. Pendragon, I'm gonna need you to calm down, sir."

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down! I want her arrested for a goddamn felony! Do your job!"

The officer opened the passenger door after he parked, guiding Uther out and placing his hands behind his back. "Sorry sir, standard procedure, at least while we're in the station."

Uther was so furious and blind with rage that he hardly felt the handcuffs wrap around his wrists with a snap. "People who break those laws go to jail! For years!" He began to walk with the officer who appeared to be ignoring every word.

"Sir, I can't arrest 'em until they try to get married. And we obviously can't charge her for adultery. We'll catch 'em, don't you worry. We'll get 'em."

"I want to talk to the Chief! The moment I'm out of holding, I'm marching to your superiors, and having your badge taken for incompetence!"

The officer merely rolled his eyes at the ravings of an old, washed up man.

* * *

><p>Uther was arrested on the same afternoon of Arthur and Gwen's departure. There were about thirty people waiting for the locomotive on the waiting platform. The men sat on the benches with crossed legs and newspapers, while most of the women there were mothers with small children, holding them close or chiding them for going too close to the platforms's edge.<p>

Arthur noticed that Gwen was wringing her hands, staring straight ahead at the landscape before her. They had been hiding at Merlin's house, keeping a low profile. There had been no visitors to his home, and they were nervous to even stay there because they were afraid that it would be the first place people would check.

"We can always go back, turn around."

"No...we can't."

"You're right... it sounded nice at least." Arthur borrowed a watch from Merlin after Uther took the one he was wearing just two days ago. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since then.

"It's 1:25, just five more minutes." He displayed a wide grin, resisting the urge to affectionately rub Gwen's shoulder.

"I wonder what New Mexico will be like," Gwen said quietly, trying to keep their conversation as discreet as possible.

"It'll be great Guinevere–tumble weeds and everything!"

"I feel bad still, leavin' Daddy and Elliott. I feel like I'm abandoning them." She felt Arthur quickly pat her shoulder.

He didn't tell her that they had fled town already, and he wasn't sure how he would do so. The news would destroy her, and this was a happy day. He would wait a couple of days, and then break the news to her somehow. Now was not the time.

This was the first day of the rest of their lives.

"They'll be fine. They'll come around eventually."

"Do you really think so?" She looked up at him expectantly.

He didn't, but he couldn't crush her spirit. Being disowned by her father had nearly destroyed her, and Arthur wouldn't finish the deed by telling her that Tom would never forgive nor understand.

Sure, I do. Maybe my family will too, but I'm not holding my breath. We're moving on with our own lives, settling down and starting a family. We should be able to have what any other man and woman have; and we sure as hell can't get it here. It'll be okay."

Gwen looked up at Arthur, feeling a little bit better and at peace with their decision. She didn't want to leave her family, but even they had deserted her.

"Three more minutes 'til a new life." He began tapping his feet, whistling a light tune. He was nearly vibrating with excitement. He looked to Gwen and his smile only grew larger. For the past couple of nights, his dreams had only been of their future and the new adventures they'd share together.

"I'm gettin' nervous again," she blushed. "Butterflies all in my stomach."

"I hope those aren't cold feet for the wedding."

"Not so loud, Arthur." Gwen put her index finger to her lips and he ruefully smiled.

"We may as well shout it from-"

"Hey, Arthur!" A gruff yell sliced through the crowd, and immediately gained Arthur's attention.

Arthur heard a deep and gruff voice in the distance, and he turned around to see who had recognized him. His heart stopped as he heard a medley of shrill screams as women leapt for cover and the cries of children who were quickly swept away from the man wearing a red bandana which covered most of his face, only exposing harsh eyes.

Arthur didn't hesitate for even a moment as he took his right arm and pushed Gwen to the ground behind him. He looked to the gunman who was at least fifteen yards away, but he knew who it was the moment he heard his voice. He felt Gwen tug at his arm to pull him down, and that's when the first shot was fired.

The sound of the gun pierced the air with a loud crack and a light cloud of gunpowder. Arthur's face twisted in pain as the blood gushed from his side. Gwen cried out his name reaching up for him, but her wail was muffled by the frantic screaming which surrounded them.

The gunman remained in the same place, and Gwen looked up to him in terror, wondering if she were next. Rather than raising the gun for a third time and emptying the clip on her, the gunman gave her a wink. He slipped the small gun in the back pocket of his blue jeans and ran to the rusty blue pickup truck whose tires screeched as they turned the corner quickly, stopping only long enough for the gunman to enter the passenger's seat and speed off, the spinning tires leaving a wispy cloud if smoke in it's wake.

Every muscle in Guinevere Gibson's body froze as she crouched over Arthur, blood seeping from his side and middle. She choked as he struggled to roll onto his back and look up at her, struggling to take off her cardigan as the first tears streaked her cheeks. She placed the bundle over Arthur's wounds, applying as much pressure as she could manage.

"Guinevere," he gasped, "What's happening?" His eyes darted around the platform, but he couldn't bare the pain of moving his head which had fallen against the concrete. He struggled to raise his arm and touch Gwen's face, murmuring sounds which were incoherent amidst the surrounding passengers still screaming at the assassination and the bloody sight which was its result.

"Somebody phone an ambulance!" A white man who was crouched behind a bench stood from his hiding place.

"Already called. They're a'comin'!"

"Oh, God..." Arthur groaned at the realization, looking up at Gwen's light eyes which were turning red with grief.

"Arthur," Gwen held his hand against her face, the thick iron stench of his blood filling her nostrils. "Arthur, help's coming."

His once vibrant blue eyes were dimmed and partially hidden between narrow eyelids which struggled to stay open. His forehead was sweating, dampening his bangs which were lifelessly pasted to his paling skin. "Dont cry over me...Guinevere."

"Help's coming," she said desperately, looking around the surrounding crowd who watched the helpless sight of a dying young man and weeping lover. Word had spread through the crowd that it was the Pendragon boy lying in the pool of his own blood.

"I love you, G-g-g-wen," he gurgled, struggling to sound strong and pain-free as her tears fell on his face. She kissed his hand, rubbing his face tenderly.

"Don't close your eyes. Arthur...you're all I got."

"Make me," he paused, feeling each breath become more of a chore, "one promise."

She didn't want to agree, and therefore acknowledge that she was losing him. "...Anything."

His hand dropped to the collar of her dress, and he felt the hard sapphire medallion he had given her what felt like years ago. He smiled weakly, trying his best to console her. "Promise me you'll keep wearin' it, no matter what."

Gwen shook her head, the bottom of her cotton dress soaking in blood, and her hands sticky with the fluid.

"Tell Merlin thank you for...everything. And Dad and Morgana that I love them...no matter what they've done."

"Please, please stop talkin' like that, like you're-"

"Guinevere, listen," he tried his best to sound as stern as possible, but his voice wavered, his lungs filling with fluid and it felt as if his side was being torn open further with each word. "Don't stop livin' on my account, that'd be the worse than never l-l-loving you at all." He gasped as the pain became unbearable, and he wrapped his hand tightly around hers. "Don't let t-t-those b-bastards win." His eyelids fluttered, and Gwen slapped his cheeks in a vain attempt to revive him.

"Arthur, don't close your eyes. I can hear the sirens coming. Arthur!" Her wails sent a ripple throughout a crowd, and they watched as Arthur Pendragon's blue eyes closed, and his hand fell lifeless atop of Gwen's blood stained lap. She desperately grabbed for his cold hand, gasping as she literally felt the heat escape from the hands she had grown to love, the brilliant blue eyes which had viewed her with such love and tenderness were dormant and the lips which had smothered her in adoring kisses and emitted his sweet laughter were now parted with death.

She didn't feel the first responders lift her off of Arthur's body, nor would she later remember them whisking him onto a gurney, and trying to coax her out of delirium to understand what had happened.

All she would later recall was watching one responder jump in the back of the ambulance with Arthur, hovering over the gurney and checking his vital signs, his arm hanging limply over the edge. The driver paused a moment before closing he door, looking at the first responder for the patient's status. The responder brushed Arthur's shoulder with his hand, shaking his head gravely. They both looked at their watches to pronounce the time of death.

That was the last thing Guinevere Gibson remembered before she fainted, falling in a heap to the dirt ground.

* * *

><p><em>So, when I wrote this, I literally cried. I intended for this chapter to be longer, but I PROMISED to have this up in two weeks, and if I added all that I wanted, it wouldn't be up in time. So Part 2 will be up within two weeks as well. <em>

_Hope y'all liked it-never written anything like that before. Don't forget to let any friends who read know that it's up. If you talk about it on Twitter, don't forget to use #MLMS_


	40. Chapter 40

_Hello? Is it safe for me to step out into the cyber sphere? I sure hope so. Well...let's just say I got **A LOT** of responses to **Part 1 **of the last chapter. All were surprised, many cried, and others vowed never to come back, declaring the story a disappointment. Well, no one's holding a gun to your head, I'm not going to beg any one. Despite all of the angry comments (they were always fun to read), I was very proud of that chapter. I think it's some of the best writing I've done-**ever, **so, no apologies there.  
><em>

_Sorry to break it to y'all who don't already know, but life isn't always rainbows and unicorns. Shakespeare, Dostoevsky, and Hawthorne all wrote about real life-I'm not even close to their ranks, but as an author, I think it's my duty to portray reality, which can be messy._

_But don't despair, by golly, there's a **Part 2 **(sorry Allison, but I couldn't keep Part 2 to myself) and here it is. For all of you who stuck around, here is the end. _

_I am so honored that the previous installment evoked such (violent?) emotions; it's humbling that y'all are so invested in this story. So, if any of you jumped off of any bridges or wrote hate mail-just read the chapter. Then we can talk. #MLMS_

Adios,

Jasmine D.

* * *

><p><strong>All's Well That Ends Well: Part 2<strong>

_What do we have?….Abdomen….Buckshot_

_Straight through...Blink!...He just started_

_Accident?...No...Do you know?_

_One minute and fifteen seconds._

_No big gasp...Lucky…_

_One minute and fifteen seconds._

* * *

><p>"I feel very...you know...I dreamed about my family. I'd dream about it all the time; how my husband would propose, what I'd name my kids, the colors I'd paint their rooms. I would have Sunday suppers...the best dinners this side of the Mississippi. I'd sit at my husband's right side, and smile at him–proud, as he spoke about how our daughter was the star in the school play, our son made the football team. Christmas would be an occasion–red and green wrapping paper covering the living room floor, me shaking my head at how much Grandpa splurged on the kids, and glaring at their Uncle for the toy gun he bought for my boy.<p>

"I'd have a big and beautiful house...the driveway lined with oaks whose roots sunk into the green grass and whose branches were lined with Spanish moss. There'd be a gazebo in the back...yes. A tall white gazebo, separating the vegetable garden from the roses, and I'd yell at the children to mind themselves near the flowers. Time would go by fast, like old folks say it does. 'Little Jane grew so quickly, I blinked and by golly, she's grown,' that's what I'd say.

"I always thought that by this age I'd be on the road to starting that life...not just here without–I can't even think about it. I can't even say his name. I just want to go to sleep. I thought I had more fight in me...but I just want to lay my head down, I'm so tired. But there are reminders every where, and I know a part of me is supposed to be sad. I know it. But I reckon there's no room left for sadness. Being sad doesn't help anybody. I'm angry. Just angry...and it's tiresome."

Clarence could feel his wet palms slide down the leather steering wheel, and he quickly slid them up again. He made sure his cap was securely on his head as he looked at Morgana in the rearview mirror. She was in the back seat, sitting perfectly upright, her neck turned ever so slightly to look out of the window as she delivered her soliloquy. Her voice would thicken with emotion, only to level out again in an airy and distant tone.

She had been like that, perfectly rigid and poised, since they left the Estate. She had received the call from the sheriff himself, desiring to make a personal call to inform her that her father had just been processed and was at the county jail. Clarence, the family chauffeur, was in the next room with, Marge and Alice who had paused in their chores. Morgana sauntered into the room, and her clean and kept appearance surprised them. She had locked herself in her room, not bothering to interact with the outside world.

Her hair was pinned up and her shoes perfectly polished as she informed her dwindling staff that she would need a ride to the jail, that Uther was in custody. She was so matter of fact when delivering the information, as if she were reporting a usual occurrence.

That's when Clarence knew that she had lost her mind. Last week's Morgana would have been hysterical at the news, but now she seemed so numb. And when she began her monologue in the car as they neared the station, he just listened, glancing at Morgana as often as he could without crashing the family's car.

"All of that is just a dream now...a fairy tale. No man, not in this town any way, will ever associate with me. Since all of this has happened, not one person has stopped by the house. Not even Vivian, but...People may forget about–pretend to forget about Arthur and Gwen after a while. Fair enough. That would be a couple of years, and it's not like this is the first time something like this has happened. But he ran away with her, that's what did it. Nobody does that–when the rumors come out, the man get married and the girl is sent to the country and she's never heard of again. They never run off together. Now my father has gone insane too, assaulting Percy Wallace...what was he thinking?"

Clarence wondered if he should answer, perhaps change the subject. He considered adding: "It looks like rain, miss," and it did, but Morgana continued before he had the chance.

"I know Percy isn't the most agreeable man, but I can't imagine my father physically striking a man. This all is too much for him, you know, Clarence. His heart is broken, absolutely in bits." Morgana turned away from the window, pushing some hair behind her ears. "Disloyalty is the gravest sin, in his book."

The car pulled into the parking lot of the police station.

"I bet that Arthur is half way to the Natchez River by now. He gets to run away, escape all responsibility after driving a bull dozer over our lives. He always was a selfish bastard. I just loved him too much to realize."

"We're here, ma'am." Clarence hastily parked, opening the door for his boss. He nearly jumped backward when she placed a single hand on his shoulder, and he looked around to see if any one else was in the lot.

"You know Clarence, you're a good Negro." She tilted her head to the side, smiling at the older man who looked absolutely terrified.

"Thank you kindly ma'am," he politely stepped around her to close the door. "I"ll just wait out here for you, miss."

Morgana checked her hair through the tinted window, before nodding in agreement. "I'll be out soon." She pulled a pair of white gloves from her small purse, slipping them on as she walked to the entrance of the small station, a place she had only been inside one other time. One of the officers held the door open for her, and she gave him a gracious smile.

"Can I help you ma'am?"

Morgana noticed one of her father's lawyers a short distance away. "No, I'm quite all right, thank you."

The lawyer was at the booking counter, obviously agitated with the officer before him. Morgana cooly approached the two, the officer pointing in her direction and the lawyer looking over his shoulder.

"Miss Pendragon, so glad you came."

"Mr. Buchanan, so good to see you again. I do wish that it was under other circumstances."

"The bail has been paid, and the hearing will be next week."

Morgana hung head, taking a deep breath. "So, Percy is pressing charges?"

Buchanan looked once more at the officer who was eavesdropping, and he took Morgana aside. "Don't you worry about that. I'll work on it, your father won't step a foot in that courtroom. But the first thing is to get him out of that cell. They let me meet with him for about five minutes before they placed him in holding again."

"How is he?"

"He's a little embarrassed, upset."

"He should be embarrassed, this is a disaster."

"I'm trying, to clean it up as best I can."

"I can't say that about the rest of your coworkers. For goodness sake, we have an entire public relations team–what have they been doing? Playing hopscotch and braiding each other's hair while my father was left to hand this himself? He shouldn't have had to those buffoons over at the Dearborn Journal; he pays someone to do that."

"Once stories like this get out, they're hard to curtail."

"Well if it's too difficult for them, perhaps we need a new team." The serenity which Morgana had been trying to retain since she had received the news was beginning to unravel, and she struggled to keep her voice at a polite tone without too much bite. She leaned over to Buchanan. "Any word from Arthur?"

"No ma'am."

She straightened, moving away from the man. "Of course not."

They were guided to a waiting area just around the corner, and sat in painful silence for five minutes until Uther came out, escorted by another officer. He was rubbing his hands were the handcuffs were. He was wearing a suit, but carrying the jacket over one arm, his tie loosened, and shirt untucked. Morgana leapt from her seat, wrapping her arms around her uncle. She quickly pulled away to have a good look at him.

"Did they treat you alright? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I wasn't there more than two hours. Horace, thank you for working so quickly," Uther patted the lawyer on the back.

"No problem, sir. I'm working to clear everything up, I have people who are planning to spend the night at the office, as we speak." Buchanan increased his pace to a light jog, trying to maintain stride with Uther who was nearly running for the door while righting his clothing, barking orders as quickly as his mind could churn.

"Do whatever Percy Wallace wants, give him whatever he asks for–I don't care how much, I just want these charges dropped! They always take the money in the end, they always do. I want someone at the Journal all day, I don't care if y'all have to take rotating shifts or sleep outside of the building in tents, that story will not be printed. If it is, your next job will be finding me an entirely new legal and P.R. team. I want everyone around the clock on this–looking through every law book to find as many libel and slander laws as you can: I want a complaint as long as the Mississippi, using words those inbred sons of bitches can't even read, and threaten to take them all to court after which they won't be able to get a job bagging groceries in this town! When this is through, they'll be too afraid to print the Pendragon name even in a weekly business report much less in a tasteless gossip piece. I want you to personally meet with their president and owner, and ask them why they've been avoiding my calls, and not to be surprised when my annual contribution check gets lost in the mail."

"Yes sir, we're working on it. All cylinders fired up, sir."

"I want an update on my son, but I want you to see to that personally."

"Of course sir, that's a priority as well."

"Before I hire someone to find him, I want you to keep this as hush as possible, and ask around, see if anyone's heard of him making plans to leave, or if that girl of his has less sense than I thought, and is still in town. Hire a Negro you trust to go to her neighborhood–for goodness sake, find out where she lives for starters. I want a full report on my desk within two hours time about her family and anyone else she's close with. How much debt are they in, do they own their house, do they have any relatives out of the state–up North perhaps? Does she have a criminal record, do they? If her tax filings are just a penny off, a want a copy. You hear? Everything you can dig up on this girl, I want it! I don't care how unimportant it seems to you, I don't care if your entire team has to march to my house with cardboard boxes stacked three times high, I–" Uther had to pause for breath as he stopped next to his car, Clarence stepping out of the driver's seat.

"I will have my best on it. No stone will go unturned, I assure you."

"Good man. I want an update in," Uther checked his watch, "three hours time. From you, personally."

"Yes sir."

"Oh, Mr. Buchanan," Loretta finally spoke, "her full name is Guinevere Louise Gibson. She has one brother, a couple years younger than her I think, named Elliot and her father is Tom. Her mother died in a car wreck, and they live across the street from where Ray Neely lived. She doesn't have many friends." She ignored the confused look her uncle gave her. "Just to help you start."

Horace Buchanan shook Uther's hand heartily. "I'm going straight to the office. Rest easy sir, we're getting a handle on it."

Uther waved at Clarence to hurry as he stepped into the car, Morgana joining him in the backseat. "Back home Clarence, and step on it."

Morgana waited until they were on the main road once more before addressing her Uncle, with caution. "Are we going to talk about this?"

"No."

"It's not fair that I have to come and get you out of jail and not receive any type of explanation."

"There's nothing to explain."

"There's everything to explain!"

"I lost my temper. This discussion is over."

Morgana looked her Uncle directly in the eye, crossing her legs. "What you did was irresponsible and childish. All you succeeded in doing was making more bad press for us. We still have to live here."

"It was a lapse in judgement."

"And what about Arthur?"

"You heard what's happening there."

"It's been two days since you kicked him out, he's probably halfway to Timbuktu by now! He's gone, Uncle, and you let him get away!"

"I thought he'd come back." Uther said this quietly, hanging his head momentarily. "I thought he'd come back the next day, I wasn't planning for any of this." He rubbed his wrinkled forehead, closing his eyes.

"He's not coming back."

"He will eventually."

"He thinks he's in love. If Arthur, Merlin, or that tramp are still in town, for some ungodly reason, I say you have all three of them arrested."

"I can't, yet."

"But let's be sensible here–where would they go? They have nothing!"

"Don't worry Morgana–"

"I see that you're obviously not worried! Besides the fact that we're town pariahs, over night, we've been black listed. You're the most powerful man in this town, one of the most influential in the state–country! And you can't even reign in a colored maid and your juvenile son."

"Morgana, it's not as simple as all of that!" Uther's temper was beginning to rise at his niece's persistence; this wasn't his first crisis. "I will take care of it all, don't you worry. If they're at Merlin's house, as I suspect, can't just go into Merlin's house and root them up, I can't. I have to think about the family company, I can't have any more damage to our reputation. This is damage control, not offense."

Morgana crossed her arms over her chest, fully reclining in the seat. She pushed her hair from her face, positively seething. Uther sighed, closing his eyes tightly as he set his head against the leather head "You should've come to me sooner. You should've told me about them sooner."

"Don't blame this on me."

"I'm not blaming you, I'm just informing you that had I known sooner, more could've been done. The girl would be paid off, leave the house, and spent the rest of her days comfortable and away from Arthur. Arthur would forget about the tryst and continue his life as he should."

Morgana turned her entire body away from her Uncle, her shoulder pressed against the seat. They sat in total silence for a few minutes before Clarence turned on the radio to ease the tension.

"Sorry sir, I gotta pull over." The driver heard the blaring sirens before seeing the flash of red and blue lights in the mirror. He used both hands to quickly turn the wheel to the right, parking along side of the curb, as the cars behind him did the same. The white ambulance flew past them, going around the cars in both lanes by traveling down the middle, running the red light which was up ahead.

Clarence whistled before pulling back onto the road. "It's been sometime since I've seen one of them." He looked in his mirror to see if either of his passengers had shifted at all, but they remained as frozen and angry as a pair gargoyles, sitting as far apart from each other as they could. He turned the volume dial one notch to the right.

* * *

><p>Merlin didn't realize that he had fallen asleep until he felt the first cold rain drops from the storm on his cheek. His eyes slowly opened to view the over cast sky. It was a sunny morning, but an afternoon storm was forecast. He was sitting on the deck of his empty home, not doing much of anything before he fell asleep. He had taken a book outside, telling himself that he would do something semi-productive, but the exhaustion of the past couple of days overtook him, and the book had slid to the ground from his lap long ago.<p>

Merlin quickly picked up the book, placing it securely underneath his arm as he hurried back inside. He was used to being in the large home by himself; his parents gone traveling, and the couple of maids he had only coming three days a week. He thought about buying a dog once. But today, it felt eerie to be alone, as if he didn't belong there. That's why he retreated to his deck, hoping to distract himself with something other than worry.

He groggily trudged to his living room, sitting on the center of the sofa as he stared straight ahead at the rain slide against the room's large windows. He wondered how Arthur and Gwen were, and when their train would stop and they could give him a call. He looked at his watch, knowing that just over two hours had passed since they left his home, and yet, he was so lonely. Being in an empty house had never bothered him because Arthur's was only a short drive away, but now he would be on the opposite side of the country in exile.

Merlin's mind drifted to the hushed conversation he had with Arthur the night before. Arthur had just returned from his meeting with Alice and Stella, and he was reviewing the suitcase Alice had secretly prepared for him. Gwen was sleeping in one of the guest rooms, and the men were making final preparations in Merlin's.

"I think you have everything you need," Merlin said eyeing the full suitcase which sat next to him on the bed. Arthur was peering at it, deep in thought, his hands on his waist. "Nothing else can fit in there."

"I just want to make sure that they packed enough." Arthur began to lift up the folded clothing, mindful of the more fragile items which were placed between them.

"I'm still a little uneasy about all of this."

"Merlin, you should come with us, I–we–told you that."

"I'm not worried about that, being here for a little bit longer."

Arthur stopped, looking his friend squarely in the eye.

"I don't think taking the train is a good idea."

"We've been over this a thousand times, we have no other choice. I don't have a car, and even if I did, it'd take too long. She'll sit in the colored section, I'll be in the white, no one will know we're together."

"It's too public."

"Well I can't walk there, now can I? Perhaps go on horseback?"

Merlin nervously tousled his hair. "At least let me wait with you at the station."

"No."

"Why not?"

"You'll drive us there, and drop us off at opposite ends of the station, that way we'll walk in separately. Then you leave. I don't want you getting into this any more than you already are. Go straight home, and meet us as soon as you can."

"I want to come with you two, but I should–need to say good bye to my parents first. They should be back in a few days, then I'll meet you out West."

"Okay. When we stop at the first station, I'll call you from a pay phone, let you know how we're doing."

Merlin didn't sleep the entire night, and he was completely embarrassed as he fought back tears before dropping Gwen off at the colored entrance for the station. She patted his back tenderly, reminding him that she would see him soon, and thanking him for his help. Arthur gave him a tight hug and a bright grin.

"Thanks Merlin," Arthur took a noticeably large deep breath, "we couldn't have done this without you. I owe you my life, really."

Merlin nodded, bowing his head slightly. "Don't do anything stupid, be safe."

"I'll call you, okay?" Arthur picked up his suitcase, turning around and taking a few steps away from his best friend, before turning around again. "I'll call."

"Go, go," Merlin did his best to give a happy smile, waving his hand.

Merlin wiped his hands over his face as he remembered his goodbyes to Arthur. He reminded himself that this was a very temporary goodbye, he would be reunited with his friend. He thought about why he had resisted leaving the state.

His first thought was that Dearborn was his home, a place that he had ties to despite its flaws. He couldn't just leave his house unattended while his parents were away. No matter how estranged and distant they were, he was still their son and owed them a decent farewell at the very least.

When the telephone first rung, Merlin wasn't sure if it was his subconscious anticipating Arthur's call or reality. He waited a moment, but on the third ring he looked to his right to see the phone shaking. He looked at it curiously before answering.

"Hello?" There was a lot of background noise; chatter in the back, beeping of machines, and the ringing of other telephones.

"This is Josie at Dearborn General, how do you do? Is this Mer–"

Merlin sat up straight, his heart racing as he wondered why a representative from the town's Negro hospital was calling him. "This is he."

"There's a patient here by the name of Gwen Gibson, and she told us to give you a call, that you're her emergency contact."

"W-w-w-hat happened to her?"

"She's fine sir, just a little light headed, she's ready to be discharged."

"Discharged?" Merlin was already standing, the phone pressed tightly against his ear.

"She just had a little shock, is all. I'm not sure of all the details, I'm just work at the desk. You will know her status once you arrive."

"Okay, okay. Is she with a man? Let me speak to him."

"No sir, she came here alone."

"...Are you sure?"

"Yes sir, you're the only contact information she gave us. We've been trying to call for the past two hours."

Merlin hung his head, rubbing his eyes, chiding himself for not being within earshot of the telephone. "I'll be there as soon as I can." He quickly hung up the phone, sprinting to the front door where he snatched his hat and jacket from the coat rack. It was a miracle that he didn't tumble down the slick steps face first, but he was able to safely plop into the driver's seat. He parked his car at the back of the house so that if anyone came around, they would think that it was empty. He drove around the front and sped down the driveway.

He didn't know what condition Gwen was in or if Arthur was actually with her. All he knew is that they were still in Dearborn and perhaps they shouldn't have taken the train.

* * *

><p>The first responder was prepared to exit the ambulance even before the driver emerged, opening the doors and helping him extend the wheels of the gurney and pull the patient safely to the ground. A doctor approached the parked vehicle with haste, already expecting the patient.<p>

"What do we have?" He moved briskly next to the gurney, examining the young man who was still, his arms laying straight against his side.

"Two gun shot wounds to the abdomen," the first responder said, pushing the rolling gurney as quickly as he could with the help of a nurse as the doctor moved along, his fingers prodding and examining.

"Is there any buckshot?"

"No sir, not from what I can tell. They went straight through–clean shots, must've been a high powered rifle. I couldn't believe it…" The responder looked down at Arthur whose eyes were moving about frantically, looking up at him then at the doctor.

"Son, can you hear me? You're going to be just fine, blink if you understand what I'm saying."

Arthur blinked rapidly, his eyes still rolling as he felt himself moving with intense speed through the hospital hallway. He opened his mouth to speak, but his lips froze, unable to aid his tongue.

The doctor looked at the white bandages wrapped around Arthur's abdomen which were now stained a crimson-brown with dried blood, and at the pallor of his patient who undoubtedly had a tussle with the Reaper. "We have to hurry, if we get him straight to surgery, he just could make it."

"He just started to–he was dead, sir. His heart stopped and everythin'; we declared a time of death."

The gurney stopped at the double doors which lead to the area of the hospital devoted to surgeries. The doctor pulled the responder over to the side momentarily, as two nurses tended to Arthur, undressing him and preparing him for immediate surgery. "Hunting accident? We've gotten a couple of those this week already."

"No sir, attempted murder. I don't know much. One man told me that someone had just come and fired shots at him, an assassin. We left as quick as we could. Sir...do you know who that is?"

The doctor shook his head. "Who? The mayor's son."

"No sir, better than that. That there's Arthur Pendragon." They turned to look over at the bloodied man in unison.

"Jesus…"

"His heart stopped for one minute and fifteen-seconds. I thought for sure he was a goner, there was nothing we could do, he had lost too much blood by time we got there and wasn't responsive. We were on the road, and all of a sudden, his fingers–they just started twitching, and he began to murmur nonsense. No big gasp for air or nothin'...he just started again, like he had fallen asleep. I ain't never seen anything like it."

"He's awfully lucky."

"One minute and fifteen-seconds," the responder repeated again in disbelief. "Damn right, he's a lucky somethin'."

"Good job, I hope that he can thank you himself later." The doctor patted the first responder on the shoulder before approaching Arthur and hovering over him. "We're taking you to surgery son, you're gonna make it through this." He watched the patient struggle to speak and lift his head up so he could be heard. His blue eyes were calmer, but he remained pale and rigid.

"G-g-wen…?"

"Yes, yes, we're going now, son. Don't you worry, we're going now."

Arthur laid down again in exhaustion as felt himself being wheeled away to the operating room. He kept his eyes on the moving ceiling and he felt something hard and cold cover his nose and mouth. Bits of the hurried conversation he had just heard replayed in his mind as he struggled to keep his eyelids open.

_What do we have?….Abdomen….Buckshot_

_Straight through...Blink!...He just started_

_Accident?...No...Do you know?_

_One minute and fifteen seconds._

_No big gasp...Lucky…_

_One minute and fifteen-seconds._

* * *

><p>Merlin was running to the entrance of Dearborn General, not caring to avoid the puddles or stopping as a car cut in front of him. There were a few people walking to the entrance with umbrellas, but they stopped and stepped aside as he shot past them, nearly sliding against the slippery sidewalk.<p>

The hospital wasn't very large, with only a couple of wings for patient care, and a small tuberculosis ward separate from the main building. It had one hundred beds to serve the entire black population of the town, whereas the newly renovated Memorial Hospital serving whites had three hundred and fifty beds, fully equipped with staff and supplies.

"I'm here, looking for Gwen Gibson," Merlin skidded to the front desk, panting and out of breath. He leaned on top of the large desk as the middle aged receptionist gawked at him, looking over her shoulder nervously.

The patients in the waiting area looked at Merlin curiously, peering over their newspapers and whispering about the young man who was in the wrong hospital.

"Sir, I think you might be looking for Dearborn Memorial, that's just two miles–"

"I'm not lost!" Merlin snapped, and the woman visibly recoiled, taking a step backward. "I was called, I don't know what she's in for, but she's here. I'm the only person she has. Could you please help me?" He made his voice as gentle as he possibly could despite his distress.

The receptionist hesitated, cautiously looking down at her book where the patients were listed. "...What's her name, again?"

"Gwen Gibson," Merlin rubbed his forehead, tapping his feet impatiently as the woman looked at the book.

"Could I have your relationship to the patient?" She cleared her throat once Merlin narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's on the first hall, take a right, bed 115. You might wanna–"

Merlin waved at the woman, thanking her as he ran in the direction which she pointed. He went through another set of doors and stepped into the women's ward of the hospital. He stood gasping as he looked around the room at the women who scampered upright in their beds, pulling the sheets over themselves and shrieking at the sight of a white man in their hospital ward. Merlin ignored the nurse who approached him, undoubtedly to question his presence, and the terrified and confused glances leveled at him from every direction.

The women's ward was a large open room with beds lining the room in two columns against the wall, some beds with curtains around them, but the rest open to the floor plan. The first bed was 100, and Merlin slowed to a brisk walk to the last bed on the first row, bed number 115. He stopped at the foot of bed, out of breath as he stood there silently, waiting for Gwen to acknowledge him. She was sitting up right, the thin white sheets covering her legs. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, exposing the bandage which covered the gash on the side of her forehead she received when she fell and lost consciousness at the train station. Her eyes were a little red, but hardly noticeable from a distance.

Hours ago, Gwen had awoken from unconsciousness, where the doctor explained that she had gone into shock, and that she was on mild pain medicine for the cut on her forehead which was bandaged with gauze. She sat there, perfectly still and calm, listening to the man explain her condition. He asked her a few questions, but she didn't respond.

She just wanted to be left alone.

Finally, the doctor left, and a nurse tried to coax some answers from Gwen with patience and gentle kindness.

"I don't have any family," Gwen finally told the young nurse. "I don't have any one."

"That can't be true, sugar; everyone's got someone. What about a neighbor, a pastor?"

"There's one person, his name is Merlin. Call him." Gwen gave the kind nurse his number, and just as the woman was turning to leave, Gwen grabbed her arm tightly. "Don't call any one else. No one else can know I'm here, don't let any one else know, or they'll come for me too. They'll come and kill me, finish what they started. Promise me that you'll call Merlin, and only him. No one else."

The nurse looked at the patient who she assumed was rambling due to the delirium. She gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, sugar."

That was two hours ago. The hospital repeatedly called the number which Gwen had given them, and even confirmed with her a second time that it was correct. When Gwen was informed that Merlin could not be reached, the staff had to intervene and set her back in bed for she insisted on leaving that instant. She started looking for her shoes and crying, telling the staff in between sobs that they must have killed Merlin too, and that she would be next.

"Merlin...you're alive." She stated the fact with a hoarse voice and little emotion. She was too numb to his presence to be excited, and she had to take a moment to ensure that he was really there, and not a figment of her imagination.

"Of course...Gwen," Merlin looked around the room, all eyes on him. "Where's Arthur? Is he in a separate waiting room?"

Gwen only cleared her throat, running her hands over her eyes. She was so tired of crying, and she could hardly say the words. "Merlin…"

"Gwen..." he walked next to her, his eyes wide with fear. "Gwen!"

"He's...gone, dead," she finally whispered.

Merlin blinked, shaking his head. "C'mon, stop messing around. That ain't funny."

"I ain't, he–they–someone shot him. Came to the train station, and pulled a gun on him point blank. By time the ambulance came...it was too late," Gwen couldn't help but shed a few tears as the images of Arthur gasping for breath marred her memory, and the weakness in his voice as he muttered his last words, and as she felt him go cold. She shuddered, and closed her eyes tightly. "He died right there, in my arms." Gwen rolled on her side, unable to watch Merlin crumble as she had. She had seen enough destruction for one day, for one life time.

Merlin felt as if his throat was closing and his mouth was going dry. The weight of Gwen's words struck him with full impact, and he stumbled to a chair at Gwen's bedside. He sat for a moment, paralyzed by silent grief. He could feel the tears gather at the edge of his eyelids, and he sniffled once, wiping them away quickly, rubbing his eyes with both hands. He had seen Arthur that morning, and he never expected that his brief farewell would be his final goodbye. Arthur was about to start a new life, he was finally going to be happy.

Merlin was staring at his lap when he saw Gwen's feet next to him, and she gently took his hand. He slowly raised his head to look up at her, and he noticed that her eyes glistened as his did.

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

"He wanted to tell you thank you, for everything you've done. He didn't suffer, not for long."

"That doesn't make it any better."

"...I know."

Merlin stood up, pulling Gwen in for a tight hug, and she quickly embraced him, holding onto him tightly as he patted her back. "I'm so sorry."

"Merlin, we have to go," Gwen said against his shoulder. "You can't stay here, they'll come for you too."

"Who was it?" Merlin finally broke the embrace, but he kept his hands on Gwen's shoulders. "Who killed him?I want to look that bastard in the eye before I go any where and have–"

"There's no time for revenge."

"I want justice."

"I don't know, his face was covered, he said something, but I don't remember his voice. It all happened so fast, there was so much screaming and–I couldn't even tell you."

Merlin took a deep breath and nodded. "Let's go."

The nurses kept Gwen in the clothes she arrived in, so all she did was slip on her shoes and grab her suitcase which she had with her at the train station. She stopped as she noticed that they had also placed Arthur's there, one of the passengers must have told the first responder that it was her's too.

Merlin saw Gwen hesitate to pick up Arthur's suitcase, and he did it for her.

"Hey! Y'all can't just go like that!" One of the nurses yelled as she saw the two run to the nearest exit of the wing. "Come back!"

Merlin and Gwen ran into the rain, each clutching to their suitcases until they reached Merlin's car which he illegally parked by the entrance of the hospital. Merlin saw two security guards chasing after them in his rearview mirror, but they stopped at the entrance, out of breath, watching his car race out of the hospital.

"Where are we going? To get your things? We have to hurry." Gwen looked over her shoulder to see if they were being followed.

"We've gotta go to Dearborn Memorial."

"The white hospital? Merlin! We don't have time!" Gwen screamed as Merlin ran a red light.

"We need to check on Arthur–see what happened, maybe...you never know."

"Merlin, whoever killed him could be waiting there."

"And they could be waiting at my house. They could be anywhere. We owe it to Arthur, maybe someone at the hospital knows something, maybe there are witnesses, I can't just leave knowing that I've left Arthur like that."

Merlin pulled into the hospital a couple of minutes later, parking in the first available space. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned off the ignition when he realized that Gwen wasn't budging. He pushed the wet hair from his face, and looked at her.

Gwen looked at the larger hospital, shaking her head in fear. "There's no way I'm goin' in there."

"I can't leave you here."

"Have you lost your mind? There's no way they'll let me in. I don't want to see Arthur like that any way, so cold and lifeless. I ain't gonna, I ain't."

"Gwen, we've got to try."

"Try what!" Gwen yelled. "Try to get arrested? Try to go in there and identify his body? Try to go in there and pretend that my life isn't over? Well you go on then and try Merlin. I'm finished, I'm not going no where. If those goons want to come after me, well they can have at it. They've taken everything I had any how, just let them finish what they started."

Merlin shoved the keys into his pocket. "Fine." He slammed the door to his car with so much force that it gave Gwen a jolt.

She rested her head against the seat, closing her eyes and wishing that she could just fall asleep and everything would be right. She would be married to Arthur, living hundreds of miles away with him in the home which they would make together, and the children they would raise together. She didn't even have a photograph of him, only memories.

"Don't stop livin' on my account, that'd be the worse than never loving you at all. Don't let those bastards win."

Gwen remembered Arthur's painful last words as her fingers felt the necklace she gave him. "Merlin, wait!" She leapt from the car, running to catch up with Merlin who was about to enter the hospital. "I'll come, I'll try."

They entered the front portion of the hospital, situated similarly to the black hospital just two miles away. There were three receptionists at the desk rather than one, all older white women, two of which put on their spectacles when they watched a drenched young man approach them with a Negro.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Merlin addressed the woman in the middle, but all three of them were eyeing Gwen who was careful not to make eye contact.

"I don't know what you're up to young man, but I can have the sheriff on the phone in a skinny minute," the woman on the right picked up the telephone receiver, waving it in the air. "This is a whites only hospital, she has to go."

"Please, she's my maid, I–"

"I don't care who she is, she can wait outside."

Merlin glanced at Gwen, who looked up at him with a defeated 'I-told-you-so' stare. "We're looking for a young man who was brought in, Arthur Pendragon. He was shot, fatally. We're here just to see–"

"You must be mistaken, sir. Mr. Pendragon's been out of surgery," the third one remarked only to receive glares from her colleagues.

Merlin and Gwen looked at each other at the same time, their hearts thumping at the revelation. They resisted the urge to jump in the air to click their heels, embrace each other with tears of joy, yell praises and thanksgiving.

"I'm his cousin."

"And we have no problem whatsoever, it is your right to visit your kin, but she can't be in here. I will have to phone security." Merlin tried to think of what he could say to convince these women to let Gwen with him. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her alone, and if Arthur was alive, there was no negotiation. "We'll be in and out in five minutes."

"Son, I can tell that you're from around here, so there's nothing to explain. Absolutely no Negroes–none are treated here, and none are visitors. We've asked you kindly to take the colored girl with you, the next words will be with the sheriff."

"Listen to me, I don't know who you think you are–" Merlin took a step closer to the receptionist, his blood boiling when a janitor who was taking trash from the area intervened. He was an older colored man with graying hair and a disarming smile.

"Miss Etta, I'll show 'em out, ma'am. No need to call security," the man glanced at the two trouble makers. "They'll go easy."

"If they don't Curtis, I'm phonin' the police!"

"Yes ma'am." The man wheeled the large garbage can around the desk.

"So, Negroes aren't good enough to visit a patient for five minutes, but they're surely good enough to clean up your trash?"

"Merlin," Gwen whispered, grabbing his shoulder. "C'mon."

"Excuse me! I have half the mind to–"

Merlin held up his hands in surrender, and followed the janitor down the empty hall only far enough so as to be out of view from the three women. He held onto Gwen protectively, drawing her near. "We can see ourselves out," he bit out angrily at the man who was leading them to another exit.

The janitor abruptly stopped, looking around the hallway where a few nurses passed, one doctor staring down at his clipboard. He prepared to turn into a private room, and stopped when he saw the colored girl.

"Curtis...who's this?"

"Doctor Henries, this is my niece, she just came by to give me my lunch. She's just leavin', sir." Curtis gave the aging doctor a small grin, and the man turned away, closing the door to the room behind him. He looked at the pair of young people who looked at him expectantly. "You must not got two brain cells to rub together if you thought you could just mosey on in here. Not with no colored gal, you ain't."

"Just show us out," Gwen said with an angry sigh.

"Everyone's sayin' it's a miracle. That the boy was dead for more than a minute and just sprang back to life. Work here long enough, and you'll hear a story like that every now and again."

"What are you talking about?" Merlin asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"You're cousin, or who ever that boy really is, he's breathing like you and me. Everyone's saying it's a right miracle– do y'all believe in miracles?"

They both nodded.

"Well you best believe."

Merlin looked around the hall. "Where are you taking us?"

The old man snorted. "I ain't takin' you nowhere. But I can tell you where he is, then y'all are on your own." Curtis pointed behind Merlin and Gwen towards a stair well. "He's in room 224, can't miss it, it's right there after you get to the second floor, take a sharp left; it's in the corner. He looked at his watch. "The nurses will change shifts in about five minutes, and then they'll all be comin' down those steps, so you better hurry. What are you waitin' for, if you wanna see him, then get!" He waved his hands, shooing them away.

Merlin looked to the door which led to the stairwell with caution, fearing that it was a trap, but Gwen nearly ran for the door, opening it. "Come on!"

"Why are you doing this? Why are you helping us?"

The janitor sighed at the lanky young man who "I was in that boy's room to take his trash, and all he could talk 'bout was his gal named Gwen. He said that you'd come a lookin' for him, that you was colored. I've heard the rumors 'round town, I know who you are, girl. I'm just helpin' a sister out. Y'all better hurry–sharp left."

Merlin reached into his pocket, quickly pulling a twenty dollar bill from his wallet. "Thank you."

"If they catch you, you ain't never met no Curtis in your life." The old man turned around with his rolling bin, whistling a chipper tune. Merlin and Gwen walked to the edge of the steps, listening to see if any one was coming up from the basement or down from the second floor. When they heard nothing, they merely looked at each other before sprinting up the double set of stairs.

They stopped at the wooden door marked "Floor 2", and Merlin held his hand up for Gwen to take pause. "I think this door puts you on the end of the hall. Let me step out and see how close Arthur'r room is to the stairwell. When I give you the okay, just put your head down and shuffle over. Don't move too fast and draw attention. Okay?"

"Okay, just hurry before someone comes."

Merlin finger combed his hair, not wanting to appear too disheveled and draw attention to himself. He opened the door and was exactly where he expected: at the end of the second floor. Just as Curtis said, directly on the left were individual patient rooms were. Room 224 was only a few yards from the stairwell, and it would only take he and Gwen a couple of moments to safely enter the room. He stepped back into the stairwell, and he waved his arm frantically for Gwen to join him. She put her head down and let Merlin guide her to the room which was only a few steps away. He opened the door quickly, and they nearly jumped inside.

Gwen grabbed onto Merlin for support the moment the door to the room closed and they were in privacy. The room was empty, save for Arthur who was laying against a multitude of pillows in a hospital gown and an I.V. attached to his arm, along with other apparatuses and needles which neither of them understood.

"That was awfully f–" Arthur's mouth dropped the moment he saw Gwen, and his raspy voice croaked in disbelief. "Guinevere?"

Gwen looked up at Merlin who was staring at Arthur as if he were seeing a ghost. She grabbed onto Merlin's arm. "Merlin...are you seeing this too?"

"Gwen...it's really him."

She looked over at Arthur, frightened. It was one thing to hear an accidental report from a receptionist, and another to see the man who died in her arms breathing and talking. It took her a moment to gain composure, and she felt her knees go weak, but she was able to remain standing. She approached Arthur's bed with caution, and he was silent, watching her every move. He closed his eyes gently as he felt her fingers graze his cheek, pushing his hair from his forehead. She finally embraced him, holding on to him tighter than anything she had before, and he did the same, burying his head in the hollow of her neck. She kissed him, placing small kisses all around his face.

"Arthur! I thought I lost you."

"Are you okay?" He asked placing both hands on her face, looking her directly in the eyes after giving her a quick once over. "Did they hurt you? Your forehead…"

"It's nothing," she said pushing his hand away. "It doesn't matter."

"Arthur, you're here, you're still here," she said through tears.

"I wasn't going to leave you without a fight. I promised, remember?" he said with a weak smile. He tok Gwen's hand, holding it tightly as she used the other to wipe her eyes. "Merlin...I knew you'd come. You've always followed through."

His light eyes glistened at the sight of his best friend. "Always."

"Well, at least I'll have a nice scar to show for my trouble." Arthur tried to bring some humor, but both Merlin and Gwen remained solemn, still processing the fact that they were having a conversation with Arthur rather than identifying his body at the morgue. "So y'all know that I'm fine now. But you've got to go."

"What?"

"My father and Morgana are here. Just before y'all came, Morgana was called away by a nurse, and my father was in the cafeteria before that. They'll be back any minute, you're lucky"

"I'm not going any where," Gwen said shaking her head. "They'll have to drag me out of here."

"Guinevere, if they find you here, it won't be good. I don't want them to know where you are. You and Merlin have got to go. I wouldn't spend the night here, not in Dearborn, I mean."

Merlin took a step toward Arthur after looking over his shoulder towards the shuttered window. "Arthur, I don't understand."

"The person who did this to me could be coming for you and Gwen next. Merlin, you don't have a choice now, you have to leave. Please, I'm begging you. Just go straight home, pack up your stuff, and then take Gwen with you and don't stop driving until you're three counties over-in McCormick."

Merlin shook his head. "No! Absolutely not! We're not leaving you."

Arthur tried to sit up farther, but cringed as a stinging pain erupted in his side, and he clutched his wound for a moment. "There's no time to argue. Just go! Before they come back! Go! Get a hotel room in McCormick, and get a separate one for Gwen. Lay low, I'll meet y'all in a couple of days."

"How?" Gwen asked at the ludicrous plan.

"Guinevere, just trust me."

Merlin took Gwen's shoulder, feeling the urgency of the situation. He pulled her towards the door when she tried to remain rooted beside Arthur. "It'll be fine Gwen. We've got to go."

"What if you don't make it? Arthur, how will you find us?" She asked, pushing Merlin away from her as he tried to pull her out of the room.

"McCormick county is small, with only a couple motels. I'll be able to find you. If I'm not there within three days...go to New Mexico without me." Arthur saw the look of worry flash over Gwen's face, and he tried to makes his voice as reassuring as possible. "It'll be fine. Go, please, go."

Merlin nodded, pulling Gwen towards the door.

"Arthur, make it to us safe."

"We've come too far to give up."

And with that, the two ducked out of the room, going the way they came and using the exit directly next to the stairwell and away from the entrance. They were panting with excitement and anxiety when they finally entered Merlin's car.

"I think my heart is 'bout to explode," Gwen said grasping at her chest.

"I've given up trying to predict what will happen in my life," Merlin turned the car over. "He's right Gwen, it's not safe for us here. McCormick is more than an hour and a half away; far enough to stay under the radar and close enough for Arthur. He's smart and determined."

"I won't rest easy until we're out of here. Please, hurry."

* * *

><p>Morgana quickly glanced at her watch, shaking her head in disbelief. She looked at the three receptionist, two of which were as silent as death as the other recounted the event. "How long ago was this?"<p>

"No more than five minutes ago."

Morgana looked to her uncle who stood next to her at the front desk, a frown set on his wrinkled face to match his niece's. "And they were escorted out?"

"Yes ma'am, immediately."

"I told you this would happen Uncle. I knew that they would come. And we missed them."

"Are you sure it was her?" Uther asked the receptionist for the third time.

"Yes sir, she was just like you described. And the fella she was with was tall with black hair just like you said. We knew even before they said anything, and sent them away."

Morgana crossed her arms over her chest, thinking for a moment before thanking the woman for her alertness and efforts. "Keep an eye out. You call the cops if either of them step foot in here again."

"And tell him what, Miss Pendragon?"

"It doesn't matter, just get him here."

Morgana hastily pulled her uncle aside, the two huddled together in a hall way while a couple of doctors and nurses passed them by. She held onto his arm, her voice low with rage. "This is turning into a mess. She came here, she actually showed her face here! Of all places–she has no shame, none whatsoever! She's trash...but that's beside the point. What if one of those women from the desk talks–to reporters? That'll be the next headline 'Negro mistress visits Pendragon at hospital.'"

"I'll see to it that the women's silence is properly compensated." He rubbed the wrinkles on his forehead. "Soon, the entire town will be on my payroll, either through hires or bribes." He emitted a sarcastic chuckle, causing Morgana's frown to tighten.

"Uncle, you're not putting a lid on this issue, and it's running wild."

"It's being handled."

"Not very well! Arthur was shot, in broad day light. A Pendragon man was gunned down in broad day light at a train station! Now that's a news story you're not getting rid of."

"This may garner some sympathy for us. We can focus the town's direction on finding the gunman, and bringing him to justice. Arthur's affair will be a pale shadow."

"You hope."

"I hope."

"Arthur knows who did it. I could see it in his eyes," Morgana bit the corner of her lip as she remembered how Arthur reacted when she asked him who committed the crime between inconsolable sobs.

"If he knew, he'd tell us."

"That's what I would think, but he's keeping something from us."

"I know, he's not telling us where that girl is, or where he was planning on going."

"We know that she's still in town, and Merlin to. As long as Arthur's here, they're not going any where."

"I think that he's come to his senses now. He'll stay here after this mess is cleaned, he won't be leaving town."

"What makes you so sure?"

"His heart stopped for more than a minute–he was dead. Such a thing has a way of bringing a man back to his senses. Maybe a near death experience was what he needed."

Morgana suppressed a smile at the news. If she had known that this is all that it took….she promptly shook the thought from her head. "He'll resist at first."

"Of course, it'll be his pride. Did you call Vivian?"

"I did. She refuses to come."

"He needs to see her."

Morgana shook her head. "That's not going to work."

"Why not? They were interested in each other before."

"Just trust me. Once he's discharged, we'll take him home, he'll fully recuperate there if need be, and we'll put all of this behind us, and be a family again. Then we can work on making sure the brute who shot him doesn't feel the sunshine until the next century."

Uther agreed, but he was slightly unnerved at the ease which Morgana's harsh words flowed. For a moment, her genteel façade was removed, and her gritty core was exposed. The swift calculating tone with which she had dealt with the entire situation–from damage control, releasing him from holding, and now Arthur's injury astounded him. He never considered her to be cunning or especially crafty.

"This is all business which we can discuss later. Let's just be with Arthur. He needs us–his family."

The moment Arthur heard the door knob of his room jiggle, he pulled the sheets to his chest and closed his eyes.

"Oh, he's sleeping," Uther whispered to his niece.

"Good, he needs the rest," she said as she quietly closed the door.

Arthur counted to three before slowly opening his eyes, rubbing them groggily. "I just closed my eyes for a bit. What took y'all so long?"

Morgana and Uther were sitting next to each other, and they looked at each other before Uther decided to respond. "Just some...news."

"Is something wrong?" Arthur's throat went dry. "Did something go wrong with the surgery, and you're trying to break it to me easy?"

"No, not at all. The surgery was a success. It's...Merlin was here."

Arthur feigned confusion.

"And that gi–Gwen," he said with obvious distaste. "Don't worry. They won't disturb you."

"What happened to them?"

"They were sent away."

Morgana took the cup of water which was next to her, handing it to her cousin. "Here, drink some."

Arthur took it without protest. "Merlin can't see me?"

"He insisted on bringing that woman up here too. I think that it's best that you too are...apart for a while. Let this media circus die down."

Arthur handed the cup back to Morgana, and he saw that she was carefully analyzing him as she returned to her seat next to her uncle. "I think you should stay out of public view for a while."

"I think that's a good idea, son."

"Well, I'll be in the hospital for a couple of days."

"After that, I'll make plans to have you stay for a week or two at the cabin in Redmond Grove. We'll send a couple of maids with you. Just for a little...consider it a vacation."

"It's not a vacation, it's imprisonment."

"You can think of it that way, if you choose. But you are staying in Dearborn. This is your home."

Arthur sighed, nodding reluctantly. "You're right."

Uther and Morgana's eyes both widened with surprise, and they couldn't resist exchanging confused glances.

"I'll stay. This is my home. I'm ready to start fresh, be serious about my life, settle down, make a life for myself." Arthur had never seen Uther smile as widely as he did in that moment, and he knew that he was doubly convincing when he saw the corner of Morgana's mouth turn upwards into a small grin.

"So we can put this entire escapade behind us?"

"...Yes. I'm sorry for all of the pain I've caused you."

"It's just a road bump, that'll be paved over easily enough."

"I'm glad that you came back to your senses," Morgana said, clasping her hands together. "You know that we only wanted what's best for you and your future. You know that, right?"

Arthur felt his jaw clench, and he reminded himself to stay relaxed, and maintain the pretense. "You two only did what was best." Arthur delivered his best yawn. "I think I'm going to take a nap now."

"Go ahead and rest, get strong, then you can come home."

With a small twinge of pain, Arthur rolled onto his good side, unable to face his father and cousin for a moment longer. He opened his eyes and rolled onto his back as he heard the door open and close; his father stepping out to make a few phone calls, and Morgana stopping by the house to pick up a few things.

He took the time to develop a plan–his escape plan. This time, there would be no tragedy or unexpected pauses. He would finally begin to live–on his own terms.

* * *

><p>The day after Arthur's shooting rocked the city of Dearborn, it was splashed against the front page of the Dearborn Journal, only a day after their story about the town's golden boy gone rogue sold the most papers in the history of the establishment. Vivian Remington listened as her father read the front page story over breakfast, her mother relishing every gory detail.<p>

"Thanks be to God that you didn't marry into that family after all, and become the laughing stock of the town. Not to mention a near-widow."

"I always knew there was something off with that boy. Vivian, you dodged a bullet, my dear."

Vivian listened to her parents go back and forth, sharing memories of Arthur and his wild days, claiming that such a scandal was to be expected of a man of his caliber. After a few minutes of the relentless chatter, Vivian pushed away from the table.

"Vivian! Where are you going?" Her mother called after her as she left the room.

It was warm that morning, but Vivian Remington decided that she would start a fire and burn every picture she had of Arthur and her together, every letter and memento, and she would then violently scrounge her room for anything which reminded her of Morgana and their schemes, and throw it to the flames as well.

Though the smoke from her fire place entered her lungs causing her to cough, she smiled as she watched the things from her old life turn to ash. She resolved to create a new beginning for herself, just as Arthur had. She would begin as he, leaving behind the old and creating her own new.

* * *

><p>Tom stopped at a news stand, one of many on the busy streets of Detroit, stopping his son as they walked to their new job at a Ford factory.<p>

"The bastard makes headlines even up here." He took a nickel from his pocket, handing it to the owner of the new stand. There was a smiling picture of Arthur under the headline "Son of Real Estate Mogul Gunned Down". He and Elliot read it together in silence.

"Do you reckon that Gwen's okay?"

"She must be. It doesn't say anything 'bout her."

"Where do you think she is?" Elliot asked as his father tucked the newspaper underneath his arm. The two continued to walk, unable to afford being even a minute late and have their wages docked, even if it was just by a penny. They were saving each dime they had to pay for their new home which need many renovations and to send money down to Bobbi so she could eventually move up North with them.

"I hope far away from that place. She'll be fine, I know it. She'll find us some day, some how."

"What makes you so sure, Pop? Y'all didn't exactly have a happy goodbye."

Tom hung his head in shame, for not a moment passed when he didn't cringe at how he treated his daughter. "I was wrong for that. She'll always be my baby girl...I just gotta get used to the idea of them...give me some time son."

Elliot looked at his father, smiling because he knew that an effort was being made on his father's part despite the pain. He would try too. He lifted up a prayer for his sister, where ever she may be, that she was safe and happy, and that the three of them would be together again.

* * *

><p>"Jesus Christ!" Alex hopped up, nearly dropping the newspaper as he waved his friends over to the living room, where he sat alone on the couch. "Hey, bring a beer for me too."<p>

"What are you hollerin' 'bout now?" Roger opened his own beer after handing one two Alex. Drake plopped onto the couch next to Alex who was nearly vibrating.

"Spit it out already."

"We're on the front page."

Roger grabbed the newspaper, before throwing it back into his friend's lap. "Son of a bitch."

"That headline should read 'Pendragon Laid to Rest at Dearborn Cemetery'," Alex said after sucking loudly on his bottle. "Isn't that right Mr. I-can-hit-anything-from-a-mile-away?"

Drake rolled his eyes as he looked at Roger's pouty face. "Or should we rename you, Mr. Fuckup'?"

"Well Alex, what did you wanna do, huh? Set him on fire? 'Cause that's all you can do, you bastard. And I told y'all when we were driving over to the station that I didn't wanna use that pistol, it didn't feel right."

"It's not registered to any of us; we had to use it."

"Well y'all can go to hell, because the kickback was too hard; I couldn't aim right." Roger explained again. "Besides, we got our point across. Lie with Negroes, and you'll die like one."

"He deserves to get it worse than he got," Drake said staring at Arthur's black and white picture. "I wish my Uncle Percy could get a crack at him and his dad. How can someone just go into someone else's job and just beat them?"

Roger ran a hand through his hair. "Arthur's gonna live the rest of his life with that scar on his side, knowing that I put that there," he said with pride. The three men sat there, drinking their beers. One moment the bottles were to their lips, and the next they were on the floor pouring the liquid onto the carpet of Roger's apartment, as the three of them were pressed agains a wall, handcuffs snapping around their wrists.

"We didn't do nothin'!"

"You got the wrong guys!"

"Call my lawyer! Call him right now!"

"You're under arrest for the attempted murder–"

"Y'all two are under arrest for acting as accomplices to–"

The protesting screams of the three young men drowned out the arresting officers, and persisted even as their heads were pushed down and they were thrown in the back of a squad car, packed together in the backseat. They silenced, realizing that any thing else they said could only incriminate them further. Their mugshots would be taken within the hour.

* * *

><p>Gaius removed his spectacles, taking a sip from his piping hot tea as Father Soma rubbed his forehead, reclined in his office chair.<p>

"I've never seen anything like this. This town is going to hell in a hand basket"

"Arthur called me, I was able to speak with him a little."

"Is he alright?"

"He sounded tired, but he had plans, good plans to leave with Gwen and one of his friends. They'll be fine, I'll make sure of it. His guardian angel must be working over time, though," he joked, resting the up on his saucer.

Father Soma chuckled, tossing the newspaper to the ground. "What's happening to our world? It's despicable, absolutely terrible that a young man could be violated in this way. Where is the justice in this? How will Arthur ever receive retribution for this mindless violence?"

Gaius grinned, cleaning off his spectacles. "Oh, there will be justice; I have seen to it. Let's just say that after I spoke with Arthur, I wrote a very anonymous and detailed note to a very important man...perhaps the sheriff…?"

Father Soma held up his hands, entrenched in enough secrecy for now. "I trust you, old friend. Say no more."

"I think that things are changing...they'll get better. It just takes courage, a little bit of courage."

The priest and the old man simultaneously raised their drinks, and sipped in content silence.

* * *

><p>Alice and Marge were sweeping the foyer in silence, still adjusting to the quiet which had befallen the lifeless Pendragon Estate. The ding of the doorbell disrupted their work, and Alice set her broom against the wall.<p>

"I needed a break any how."

"I hear you."

Alice hurried to the door when she heard the bell ring a second time, and she wondered what could be so urgent. She was surprised to find an old black man at the door, holding his cap in his hands and holding a blank white envelope. She looked at it silently, waiting for an explanation.

"I was sent to deliver this, in person."

"By who?"

The old man peeked over the maid's shoulder, and whistled in awe at the interior of the house. "Mr. Pendragon."

Alice's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"Just a janitor at the hospital." He pushed the letter towards Alice, and she received it with caution. "Be blessed, have a nice day." The old man put the hat back on his head, and turned around to walk down the steps.

"Hey! Who is it for! What is it?"

But he ignored her, whistling as he sauntered away.

Alice quickly closed the door, not surprised to find that Marge had been eavesdropping. She approached her, nearly snatching the envelope. "Have you seen him before?"

"No," Marge said, examining the envelope. "It feels light. It ain't money."

"What would that man be doin' givin' money to the Pendragons? Stop talkin' like a fool."

"It's from Arthur…"

"Don't you think I know that? Who else could it be from?"

Both women peered down at the envelope, and they could feel the weight of its significance burdening their hands.

"Ain't they supposed to be bringing him home today? He's been at theta hospital for three days, now."

"Miss Morgana and Mr. Uther were just fixin' to leave to pick him up."

Morgana approached the maids, slipping on some gloves. "Why are you two just standing around?" She pointed to the envelope with a gloved hand. "What's that you got there? Who was that at the door?"

"Some man came and delivered it. Said to give it to you."

Morgana snatched the letter away, dismissing the two women with a wave of her hand.

"What's that, Morgana?"

She looked at the front, where there was no address or names. She shrugged, breaking the seal with her finger. She gently unfolded the single paper as her uncle looked over her shoulder at the handwriting of his child–slanted and sloppy as ever.

_Father and Morgana,_

_By time you read this, I will be far away from Dearborn. I have made many decisions in my short lifetime, some good, but most of them, things that I wish I could take back. I have always chased after what I wanted, and maybe that's been my problem, but now I'm running like hell after it. I have left with Guinevere, and that's a decision I will never regret._

_I am sorry that it has to be this way, believe me, I am. But you said it yourself Father, there comes a time where a man must put away childish things and settle down, think about his future. I began doing that when I met Guinevere, and I'm a better man for it. I have put aside childish things, and this is how I know that what we have, the love we share is no childish fling._

_We will be married soon after you read this, and starting a family. I hope the two of you can find it in your heart to forgive me for any suffering I have caused. It isn't always easy doing the right thing._

_I will not tell you where we are until you push aside all desires to punish me and my fiancée, and you accept what has happened. I will not apologize for choosing to be happy. I don't want this to be our final good bye, but I won't be coming back to Dearborn for quite some time. I will call the house once every month, hoping that you'll have turned around by then._

_Until that time, your son and relative,_

_Arthur Pendragon_

Morgana's hands trembled as she read the letter, and she looked up at her Uncle, and she was unable to tell if the look of pain on his face was because of the defeat or a deep reckoning.

"Uncle...what are we going to do? Uncle?"

Uther shook his head. "Nothing. We do nothing. Those brutes who tried to kill Arthur, his supposed friends are going to jail, the story will die down...with much time. We just have to keep moving Morgana. I can't rule over him for ever. I don't even know where he is." Uther sighed, looking at the letter. "Let it be, for now."

Morgana crumpled the letter into an angry fist, throwing it across the foyer as her father slumped away. She fell into a heap to the ground, so upset that she didn't know what to do next. For the first time in months, there was no back up plan. She had played her last hand.

* * *

><p>When Arthur knocked on Gwen's door on the third day, she stared at him, in awe that he made it back to her yet again. He pulled her in for the longest kiss of his life, not caring that anyone who looked up from the parking lot could see their embrace.<p>

"I told you I'd come."

"I knew you would," she said, leaning her forehead against his own.

"The worst is over Guinevere, we made it."

She smiled, caressing his cheek. "It was worth it."

"Every single bit of it." He took a step away, holding her hand. "Let's go. Merlin's waiting in the car. We've got a long drive ahead of us."

Gwen had her suitcase fastened and in her hands in no time, and Arthur gladly carried it for her. As they walked down the steps of the motel, Arthur sighed with content as he saw the sun just peaking over the white clouds. As he put Gwen's suitcase in the trunk of Merlin's car, he looked over at her with a roguish grin.

"Someone ought to make our story into one of them Harlequin books."

"I don't think they'd have the time," she said as he opened the car door for her.

Arthur shook his head. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Merlin looked at his friends, and for the first time in a long time, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

Arthur cupped his hands around his mouth as he howled in boisterous agreement, and Gwen clapped her hands in joy. Merlin had never been so happy to begin a long drive, but there was something different about this trip. It was the beginning of something great, a rebirth and a celebration of love. A twenty three hour car ride never felt so liberating.

In a land of opportunity and a time of struggle,

The destinies of three lives were changed by one decision.

**The End**

* * *

><p><em>It has been absolutely fantastic writing this! Thank you for everyone who read, and finished until the end! You have made this experience such a fun and fulfilling one. See? I'm not such an evil maniac; I'm still a sucker for happy endings. So if you have any friends who refused to finish the last chapter (like...seriously?) tell them they need to get their life together and finish it.<em>


End file.
